Never Been Kissed
by harponMOO
Summary: Arthur Kirkland has his first break as a reporter, but it requires him to go undercover at Hetalia Academy. Who knows, maybe he'll have the  chance to fix past mistakes... if that git of a teacher doesn't get in the way.
1. Part One

_You know how sometimes in books there is a dream sequence? The words are all italicised and descriptions are given so graphically it's like you're almost there. _

_But the author doesn't tell you until the end of the page, the chapter, the book, that the moment was really not something that had occurred._

_It was just a figment of imagination. _

_A fantasy._

_And it screws things up, changes your interpretation of the novel._

_I'll tell you now that this isn't a dream. _

_It's cold out, and I try to let that distract me from the nervous tingle in the pit of my stomach._

'_Don't watch the clock,' I warn myself. It won't help any._

_I notice that the ground is a dusty brown, slightly moist from a recent rain. The white home plate feels uncomfortable as I dig my feet into the ground, trying to disappear. _

_I reach up with one hand to pat down my troublesome hair, instantly feeling strange that I felt no wig, it was just my natural hair. I was just me; a twenty-five year old copy-editor for the New York Times, and proud of it. _

_The sky has settled into darkness, yet I have a lifetime to get through before I can rest._  
><em>My eyes dart up again, and I catch the gaze of Elizaveta and Roderich in the crowd. They look happy, clapping and yelling as I stand isolated by height and distance. A baseball field never seemed so unfriendly.<em>

_But I try to smile, despite all this, because I can see the white flashes of light and know that pictures are being taken._

_More headline news?_

_Others are here too, people I'd never expect to be on my side for something like this. Francis' arm is brushing against Mattie's, and I can tell she is biting back a grin, still looking earnestly at me with soft violet eyes of encouragement. Strangers are here as well, cheering me on as if I was a well-known friend. The only way they could have heard about this was from the article... and I honestly hadn't expected so many people to read it._

_It only mattered if __**he**__ read it, if __**he**__ picked it up and saw what I had wrote, the message I had left for him._

_Now I was the centre of so many people's attention, but all that mattered was his..._

_I'll tell you this; I wasn't always this way. I'm the type of person to go unnoticed, to be ignored._

_I wasn't the most popular boy in secondary school. The only time I got consideration was when I was sought out for being a victim bullying. I didn't have good looks, or a stellar personality, just thick eyebrows and a habit for correcting grammar mistakes. _

_Not much has changed , and you could hardly pick me out of a crowd two months ago..._

* * *

><p>As stated earlier, I am a copy-editor for the New York Times, the youngest, actually. I made my way into the building and was instantly called for by a rushing assistant.<p>

"Meeting in twenty, Room Four C," She told me as she whizzed by, handing me a coffee as I continued to my office.

"Got it," I cried after her, but I am sure it went unheard in the hustle and bustle of the morning rush. I decided to take the stairs, since the elevators were crammed and I didn't want to interact with more people than necessary.

When I finally made it to my own floor, I saw that Feliciano was actually at his desk today. It's an extreme rarity for my assistant to be on task.

Apparently, I spoke too soon.

"Hey, hey Arthur, I gotta new cat, do you want to see the pictures?" His eyes were closed, as they always were, and a blissful smile graced his lips. He'd be quite a nice friend if he wasn't so easily distracted by random shit.

"Maybe later, I'm a little busy right now. Did you manage to get the papers I asked for? From the Travel people?" After receiving a blank look, I added, "Ninth floor... I requested it yesterday."

"Oh, that!"

I took that as a sign that he hadn't done what I'd asked of him. With a weary sigh, I made my way into my office.

I try to keep it neat and organised, and the colour-coded stacks of papers, manila folders, and sticky notes placed across the room attest to that.

I reached behind my swivel chair and pulled the blinds, letting the sunlight stream and in and brighten my day...

… which seemed to be ruined only seconds later, as I heard my door slam closed and looked up to see my best friend hopping eagerly on her feet.

"Yes?" I tried to look back out the window, at the breathtaking view of city, but her impatience demanded my full attention.

"Guess what I just found out?"

"Something to do with the new guy who works here?" I figured that had to be it, because she had been obsessing over him for quite a while.

"Gah! How'd you know?" With genuine disappointment, she threw herself onto my desk, scattering my carefully placed assignments.

"You've been talking about it for a while," I huffed as I darted after the falling papers.

"The guy which works here is from Germany! Can you believe it?"

I smiled at her now, giggling to myself.

"What I can't believe is that you used _which_! Silly, _who_ is the subjective relative pronoun that you should have used," I was nearly in a fit of kind hearted laughs now, "_Which_ would be referring to a thing or a concept! And I'm pretty sure the hunk in Opinions is a person." I wiped a tear from my eye to look into confused green eyes.

"You worry me sometimes, dear Arthur."

"I'll have you know my sense of humou-" Before I could finish my retort, Roderich entered, throwing a stack of papers on my desk with a murmur of, "Need it by noon." He cast a hurt glance to Elizaveta, then walked out.

After the door closed I leaned over her, as she was still resting on my desk.

"What did you do to him?" Suspicion dripped from my voice, which she noticed and looked guilty for.

"I invited him to a threesome." She replied, as if that were the most normal thing in the world to ask a person.

"God, are you serious?" I turned away from her, sighing dramatically as I finished re-organising the articles she had knocked over.

"That's not the bad part..." Elizaveta murmured.

I waited for her to go on, wondering what she could have possibly done to make something like that _worse_.

"The worst part was the other people invited were Feli and the cutie from Opinions. I hear his name is Ludwig or somethin'."

She said the last part so nonchalantly that I could only stare at her in disbelief.

"You crushed that man's soul!"

"It's not that bad, I would have watched _eagerly_." A sly waggle of eyebrows came with her words.

"And Feli? Really?"

"His moans are a dream."

A fond blush covered her face.

Fortunately, the time saved me from having to respond to that last sentence. "Crikey , Eli, we better hurry to the meeting, we've only got three minutes!"

She let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a snort and a scoff, but I dragged her out of my office anyway, preferring not to get caught in the crowded offices again.

"Is it insane of me to imagine that this is the meeting in which I'd get my first piece?" I wondered aloud.

"Yes, it's insane because you're a copy-editor, not a writer." Roderich was joining us on the lift, smoothing his perfectly gelled hair into place.

"I _could_ be a writer though." I objected indignantly, "It'd be amazing to become a journalist…"

He just looked at me with a sad smirk, "Don't get your hopes up kid."

Not like I'd support _America_ in any way, but ever since I came here as a guy fresh out of college, ready to be thrust into the real world, people have been telling me this was the place for big dreams, for lucky chances. I had a right to hope that something like that could happen to me, and you better believe no repugnant wanker was going to piss on my aspirations.

"I'm not a kid, and just because you're my boss doesn't mean you get to crush my hopes." I snapped half-heartedly, mindful of the latter part of the sentence.

Elizaveta covered up a laugh with a fit of coughs, causing another glare from Roderich.

Thankfully, the doors opened and we were joined by many others as the editorial staff made their way to the meeting.

People from the other floors were in there as well, including the German man, whom Eli sent a knowing wink to the second their eyes met.

I chose a seat beside her, and waited patiently for the editor-in-chief to come in.

Bloody nora, how I hated that man. How everyone hated that man!  
>He ran us with the constant fear of being fired, and that's what probably what would happen today.<p>

A smile was on Mr. Braginski's face, his signature smile. It offered no comfort or warmth, only left you chilled and waiting. "Month of the last we had a wonderful piece by Gupta, da?"

Everyone nodded, a few applauded him, and all were shocked from the unexpected praise.

"Too bad USA Today has published something like that, only better, we will have to be letting Gupta go."

The clapping stopped and awkward silence filled the room as the Egyptian journalist dejectedly picked up his folder and left the room.

"Good-bye Gupta, and hello Ludwig." The smile was still there, and now it was turned to the newest journalist. God have mercy on his soul.

"I think we are going to enjoy the changes with a new, undercover article." His shifty amethyst gaze darted across the room, the smile leisurely perched upon his face.

"I got this idea from a program on the television. You've all seen pregnant teenage shows, da?"

Quick nods all around the room; I joined in.

"Well, I was interested in the girls, all the drama they cause! Haha, silly girls. Now, what is it really like being a mother and a student?"

It was a rhetorical question and wisely, none of us answered.

"So I, thinking to myself, I thought how interesting it would be to get a close up story about this," he looked up thoughtfully, and the Russian editor's smile grew, "My Semester as a Mother and Student."

A chocked cry, "You want one of us to get pregnant and go back to school?"

"No, silly, try listening to my words." His voice was airy enough, so no one feared another person getting laid off, "I mean someone goes undercover as a student, and gets perspective from all different types of students and what they go through."

This idea sounded better, but many were still nervous. I felt relaxed in my chair, and turned my head to Elizaveta, realising it was a mistake as she had been intently gazing at a picture of two men kissing.

I elbowed her in the stomach to draw her attention, hissing, "I thought _I_ was the gay one."

She just smirked and awkwardly linked our elbows together.

"You, what is your name?"

I jumped slightly in my seat and prayed to God that I wouldn't get fired because honestly, I assumed that my whisper had been heard.

"A-Arthur Kirkland, sir."

"Aldo, your semester in high school starts Friday. Time to leave now," He begins packing up to leave while I could only meekly call out that my name is, in fact, _Arthur, _not Aldo_. _But I was too busy being shocked to care much anyway.

Other people began packing up, and all of a sudden I just bolted. Straight to the men's restroom, barely suppressing the urge to run.

"Arthur, wait up!" I heard Elizaveta yelling for me, and I was too breathless with the intense feeling of fulfilment to turn around, or to call back.

I pushed the doors open and collapsed to the ground, not minding much about the fact that I was wearing my really nice trousers that day.

"Arthur," She had finally caught up with me, entering the opposite gender's restroom as if it was no big deal, "I don't think you should take the job."

I was crestfallen. My gut felt tight, and I felt as if I were being squeezed by some invisible force. "What- what do you mean?"

"I mean that it's a really tough article, 'specially for a first piece. You saw what he did to Gupta. And Gupta was _really_ good."

"Are you saying _I'm_ not really good?" I asked quietly, my eyes trained on her mouth as I waited for her next words.

"Look, that wasn't what I meant." She said, trying to sooth the hurt in my voice, "I'm just saying that maybe you should let this assignment go."

Roderich opened the door, threw another squint at Eli and then turned towards me.

"Don't worry, kid, I'll fix this mess."

Then it hit me.

I began to shake my head slowly, at first not realising how to put it into words, but now I knew what they were trying to imply.

"You guys don't think I can do it."

"Now look-"

"I didn't mean-"

I cut them both off, too irritated to bother with politeness.

"Elizaveta, when you asked me to help find all the gay guys in this building, who organised a list for you?"

She looks at the ground and mumbled, "You did."

"And Mr. Edelstein, who helped you embroider that pillow for your grandmother because you were too cheap to get a professional?"

He sighed, seeing my point. "You did."

"I've helped you through times of need. I asked no questions," Elizaveta started to say something but I cut her off again, "Well, maybe a few."

I looked up at both of them, sincerity and determination pouring through my eyes like a mother fucking rainbow.

"Now it's my turn."

**Based on the hilarious movie Never Been Kissed**

**Tell me what ya think?**

**Beta'd by the completely awesome RamenNoodlesXD**

**~HarponMOO**


	2. Part Two

"So, what are you going to need first?" Elizaveta asked during lunch break.

We were sitting at a secluded table in the corner. She was biting into a muffin, while I was enjoying a cup of tea.

"I don't know, it's weird to think I'll be a teenager again..." I murmured, tracing my finger around the ceramic rim of the cup.

She smiled fondly, as if remembering her years with a touch of nostalgia. Mine held none of that.

Those were the worst years of my life.

"How were your high school years?" Somehow, I managed to hear it between her bites and swallows.

"Well, college was horrible. Secondary school was even worse." I answered, failing to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"Really?" I didn't know why she was so surprised. As long as I could remember, I've never been very cool-looking.

I wasn't a guy with abs or obvious muscles. I didn't laugh very often or get along well with others. I didn't go partying or bring home dates.

I didn't even _get_ dates.

"Tell me about your romantic life back then. I'm a bit worried about you now, you haven't mentioned anyone in _ages_ ." She leaned forward, her eyes shining eagerly as she rested her chin on her palms.

"Well, you know how things go."

"Arthur?"

Conveniently I was mid-sip of my tea and couldn't really answer her until I had swallowed, digested, and allowed myself some reflection time.

"Well, to be frank, I'm still waiting for the one. The one special kiss." I confessed.

A a sudden bout of laughter escaped from her throat, resulting in numerous stares from most of the other patrons in the cafeteria.

"Still waiting for a kiss? Oi, you've never been kissed?" She said it with a voice that declared haughtiness. As if not having your lips pressed against another meant that you were still a baby of sorts. So, I did what any sane person would do, the only thing anyone could do.

I lied.

"Pfft, of course I've been kissed! Don't be such a git about it." I scoffed, "I'm just waiting forfor that special someone, you know?"

The look she gave me told me that she in fact did _not_ know. I took a big gulp of my tea, and tried to explain my feelings adequately.

"The kind of kiss that sets ablaze a fire in your soul. That makes it so you and the other person are alone in an isolated contentment. You forget about breathing, about everything, because you know you've found the person you want to be with for the rest of your life. The person that means the world to you, and should you not mean the same to them-well, you just couldn't go on. The kind of kiss that makes you dizzy with excitement, just with the pressure of another man's mouth on yours, and hoping that it will never end. And, if the bliss must be ruined, it will forever remain in your memory. I mean, if life was a fairy tale and people were decent." I added the last part in haste, not wanting to seem like a hopeless romantic.

Elizaveta disregarded the last sentence. "Well damn, Arthur, you make me feel like a dork. I've never experienced those before."

"I think you meant _that_. _Those_ indicates a plural form and, trust me, a person like that is singular," I smiled at her, a goofy grin plastered on my face.

"Well, at least I'm not the _biggest_ dork at the table," With her tongue still sticking out at me she popped the rest of her muffin into her mouth to finish it.

I didn't say anything, still too excited and nervous about what was going to be happening tomorrow.

Sure, being a teen wasn't the best affair of my life, but this was a chance to make up for it. A chance to experience the things I never did!

Lost in my own little world, I didn't notice Braginski until he was uncomfortably close to me; the vodka on his breath tickled my nose in an unpleasant manner.

"Aldo, one last thing," I waited for him to go on. Judging by the way his lips were pulled back in an eerie fashion, it wasn't going to be anything good for me.

"I want you to go as a girl."

'PFFFFFFT!' Well, there went my tea.

"Every damn time!" Elizaveta pointed incredulously towards her now tea-stained shirt. It was a rather nice shirt, too, a dark plum that made her wavy brown hair look shinier and more vibrant.

"Sorry," I offered my meek apology. Judging by the glint in Elizaveta's eye, it wasn't accepted.

"What do you mean go as a girl?" Calmness slowly drifted away from me but I struggled to pull it back. Maybe it was just a mistake?

"Aldo will be going to Hetalia Academy as a female student, da?"

"No _da_! I am a bloody _male_; there is no fem about it!"

Eli was slapping her shirt with napkins now, grumbling about how dumb I was, and that only made Mr. Braginski's smile grow.

No, this _couldn't_ be happening!

I was supposed to be going back to school for _research_.

That didn't include a wig!

"Can't you just pick someone else and spare poor Arthur?" Apparently she was done trying to fix the blouse, but what she said didn't make me feel any better.

"Hah, hah, she's just kidding! Of course I still want to cover this." I laughed nervously, sending Elizaveta a pointed glare.

He looked at us like we are a pair of gawking idiots (which, to his credit, we probably were at the moment) and then left. Once he was out of earshot, Elizaveta turned to me.

"One question..."

"Yes, Elizaveta?"

"Can I shave your eyebrows?"

"..."

"That kinda hurt Arthur."

"I know."

Then it was silent for a while, my way of apologising, her way of accepting.

"You should take a half day, get ready for tomorrow," She suggested as we made our way back to the offices on the editorial floor.

"I do need to talk to my brother..." I mused aloud.

"Your brother?" Confusion was evident in her voice, along with hurt, seeing as we'd been friends for years and I never mentioned him before. He was like the overflowing trash can at a birthday party. Everyone knew it was there, but no one wanted to leave the group to address the problem.

"My younger brother, Peter."

"How old is he?"

I saw the glint in her eyes, the way the emerald green turned darker, how her smile was smaller, more like a predator then a sweet young adult.

"No, Eli."

"That doesn't answer the question," she argued aimlessly as if she _didn't _ just have a rape face.

"He is twenty, but you do _not_ have permission to fuck him or watch him fuck someone else." I told her this with a stern face. You might think it was silly, but if you do, then you obviously haven't met Elizaveta.

"Fine, fine. Though you kinda owe me for what you did to my shirt," She led on suggestively.

I handed her a twenty from my wallet, no doubt crushing her perverted hopes, then stood up to throw away my cup and packets of cream and sugar.

"I'm leaving for the day, are we still on for shopping at eight?"

" 'Course Arthur, you have to start school with style," she tossed me a sloppy wink and walked back upstairs to her office, while I made my way downwards to the front doors.

I didn't talk to Peter often, but when I did it often left us both feeling bad. This time I was determined to have a pleasant conversation with him; maybe he'd give me some tips on how to be cool. He was good at that, with a cute little face and a determination no one took seriously.

The air was cool, and the New York traffic had slowed miraculously to a near stop, but honks and screeches were still being given as if people were speeding. The walk to Peter's workplace wasn't long, and though I felt out of place in my dark trousers and striped sweater vest, I tried to look busy because getting robbed wouldn't be too fun.

I almost passed the place, to be honest. Its tan colour and rectangular conformity blurred past my eye and my thoughts were in the clouds.

I backtracked, pushed the door open, and gave myself a quick bout of self-confidence.

"Hullo, Peter!" I cried as I walked in. I spotted him in the distance, walking out of the back room.

"Arthur?" His voice didn't hold any pretence; he obviously wasn't pleased to see me.

I ignored this and tried to strike up some form of polite conversation, "How have you been? Still working here?"

He walked over to me, his frown growing once he saw that I was still taller than him.

"Nah, I'm just shagging the waitresses."

The eye roll was not appreciated.

"Have you applied to BMCC yet?" I tried to change the subject, to make things more amiable for both of us.

"Would you just give up with that already? I'm the screw up, okay? I'm not going to go to college, I'll never do nothing," Brows furrowed with irritation, he started to walk away, but I grabbed him by the arm and forced him to face me.

"Don't use double negatives," Sighing, I gave up on trying to have a polite chat.

"I'm going to high school, undercover, tomorrow," I felt my eyes widen with excitement, and his soon mirrored mine.

"No, no way!" His irritation was gone, replaced with humorous skepticism.

"Mhm," I nodded my head enthusiastically, ready to start singing or something else that was equally silly.

"Do you remember what they called you in secondary school?" He was grinning now, too, but it didn't look so friendly.

"That was a long time ago," I tried to brush it off because it's true, that _was_ ages ago, and if I could keep that memory buried I'd be better off.

"You don't recall it?" The smirk on his face told me that he wouldn't let this go, so I answered.

"They called me _Eyebrows_," Pale digits were drawn to my forehead, and felt the thick strips of dark hair that unfortunately laid there. With disgust I realised they were _my_ fingers.

"I came up with that, didn't know it'd get me so popular," Peter looked rather pleased with himself, but it made me sick, and for the second time that week I was running towards a bathroom.

This time, though, I didn't collapse to the ground. I lowered myself in front of the toilet, waiting to get the sick feeling out of my stomach.

"I can't do it. I can't." I chanted to myself, trying to convince myself out of it. I leaned my head against the rim of the seat and closed my eyes, trying not to burst into tears.

_It was 1999, and I was feeling particularly confident, which was foolish of me. _

_I was a young guy, thirteen and just learning about things like sexual preference, and there was this __guy__ boy. A Danish boy, armed with icy blue eyes and ignorant words. I hated him and loved him at the same time. He'd been absent in maths the other day, probably smoking behind the school with the other kids from his clique. Sometimes I'd see them, and I was jealous instantly, as they took long, expert drags, blowing smoke out in fancy spirals. The boys looked mature, on a whole other level then I was at the time, in my hand-me-down plaid pants, and ironed button downs. Braces covered my teeth and gave me a slight lisp, and I hadn't started puberty yet so I was centimetres shorter than everyone else. But that day, I felt daring. Silly of me, I know. _

_Kiku, my best friend at the time, was next to me, and though he wasn't saying anything, I could tell from his blank expression that he thought this wasn't going to end well._

_I did it anyway._

"_Oi, Mathias, I saw you weren't in maths yesterday. Were you sick?" I thought he didn't hear me because my voice had been barely above a whisper, but his attention was on me, his smirk fixed toward my face. I was blinded, though, by my silly school boy infatuation. _

"_Yeah, I was smoking a fag, relaxing," When he said __**fag**__ his eyes lit up, watching as I squirmed a bit. I hadn't come out of the closet, but there were rumours and I tried not to let them bother me._

"_I-I took some notes, in case you want them?" I offered, reaching around for them in my bag._

"_Nah, I've heard too many fags aren't good for you," A couple of his friends snickered. They all seemed so tall, so serious. I caught the eyes of a boy with pale hair, almost white. He wasn't smiling, but his eyes didn't look friendly. I walked backwards, trying to smile still, "I-I don't know what you mean, heh…"_

"_Eyebrows, we all know you're queer as fuck." His voice hadn't changed though, it was still relaxed, normal. But his words, his words were so horrible. They cut at me, stabbed me, left me bare in front of those people, who just lapped me up with cool eyes in varying shades of blue._

"_Come on, Arthur-san," I felt Kiku's hand on my arm, pulling me away, which I was thankful for. I couldn't have walked away on my own. I would have just stayed there, smiling through the insults, laughing so I wouldn't cry. _

"_Are my eyebrows really that bad?" I asked Kiku quietly as he waited for me to finish putting away my backpack. _

_I didn't see his face, but I assumed it was blank, painfully polite. _

"_No, they are just fine."_

_The worst part was, I actually believed him._

"I can't do it," I was mumbling between sobs. What was I thinking? Someone like me couldn't possibly do something like this.

But I had to.

I wasn't going to back down.

I was a new person, I was a _girl_.

With that new outlook, I splashed some water on my face to cool down, and walked back out.

"Hey Peter, see you later." I said in farewell as I passed by.

"Arthur," I halted to a stop. He hesitated, nervously playing with the hem of his sleeve, "Good luck, brother."

That helped a lot, too. I flashed him a genuine smile and walked back home.

I was perfectly content to just sit there and think about how awesome my new experience was going to be. How I was going to help all the children as dorky as me. How I was going to talk to people, how they would laugh at my jokes, and how they would think that I was pretty. A buzzing in my pocket brought me out of those thoughts.

"Hullo, Eli."

"Hiya, Arthur! I'm coming over now, be there in twenty!"

I glanced at my watch in confusion. "But it's not even close to eight o'clock yet."

"Yeah, well Roderich is pissing me off, so I'm leaving work early too. Besides, now that you're a girl, we are going to have _a lot_ of work to do."

I didn't think it was a justifiable reason for leaving work early, and I didn't like the way she said '_a lot'_, but I knew that once Elizaveta's mind was set on something, you'd be dim to try to steer her away from it.

"Okay, see you then."

So, instead of taking my time strolling, petting dogs, sniffing grass, loving life- I was speed walking like a determined senior citizen in search of doorbuster deals.

"Seriously?" I was covered in a thin layer of sweat by the time I reached my apartment, and as I let myself in I noted with relish that no one had broken into my home. I mean, if they had, they'd probably just walk right back out, considering my TV is from the 80's, and I only have yogurt and cheese slices in the refrigerator.

Some called it lonely; I preferred the term _waiting_.

Waiting for the one.

And for now, I was perfectly happy eating Yoplait and watching Lifetime movies on Friday nights.

_Perfectly_ happy.

Oh, and my embroidery, that added a classy taste to my home. Mountains of pillows with eloquent designs covered my bed and couch.

I heard knocking, and it hadn't been twenty minutes yet. It's a good thing I picked up the pace of my walking.

I swung the door open and saw Elizaveta's excited face. "Hullo, ready to go?"

"Mhm, I think we can get you a nice wig at some trannie stores and-"

"I'm not going in there! Are you bonkers?"

"Please don't use the word _bonkers_, like, ever again."

"I'm not a trannie," I grumbled, indignant at how she said the word so calmly.

"You're only a transvestite if you like it, don't worry Arthur, you can still be uh..." She couldn't really say straight as an arrow, so with quick improvisation she compared me to a headband. Sturdy yet bent. Thanks, Eli.

"Let's just go, okay?"

Linking our arms together again (I prayed to Zeus this wouldn't become a habit), she led me down the street to where she had parked her car.

"Why so far away?"

"Need to get into shape," She didn't say why, and didn't look like she was going to, and honestly I had no interest in knowing. Ignorance is bliss.

"Where to first?" I asked, failing to keep the excitement out of my voice.

"Well, I was thinking, what's cool now? I'm sure styles have changed..."

"I heard the 80's were coming back," I offered. I heard that on the radio a few years ago, I'm sure it's still quite popular now.

Maybe I'd even be a bit ahead of the fashion tastes and start some trends.

"Awesome, I know a great place!"

I turned on some music, happily realising that my Queen CD was still in the slot. Soon we were singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody, hardly noticing the horrible traffic jam we were in. Until it ended.

"It's only five, what kind of twat crashes his car already?"

"You should be more considerate, Arthur, he could've been badly injured."

I hmph'd to myself and kept thinking bad thoughts in my head.

Eventually, we got there, and I was shocked by the lack of cars in the parking lot, a strange contrast from the busy streets.

"Is there something wrong with this place?" I glanced at the sign to see if we were here during the 'open' hours.

"No," she leaned in, happiness etched across her features, making her seem decades younger, "this place is so hip, it's like, _vintage._"

"Is that what's hip nowadays?"

She just nodded. With a face like that, I couldn't say no, so I allow myself to be dragged inside.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Arthur, now that you're becoming a woman, what is your name going to be?"<p>

My face was coloured a mad red, and I was thanking God that we were in the privacy of my own home, sitting on my bed, picking out liquid dabby things that would draw attention to my eyes and away from my eyebrows.

"That looks like a pencil," I squeaked, startled as Elizaveta was bringing the object closer to my sensitive areas.

"That's because it is, now close those green peepers."

"Will it be painfu-"

She cut me off with a tired huff, "Close 'em!"

I did what I was told and instantly felt a sharp jab on my eyelid. It really fucking hurt.

"What are you _doing_?"

"Making you beautiful, now shut up."

Then, she started colouring! On my eye!

"What the hell?"

"Arthur, stay still," her breath tickled my nose, and I felt her lift the pencil up and move to harm the other side of my face. With slow determination, she was finished, and I was finally allowed to look at myself in the mirror.

My green eyes were outlined in a dark line of black, circling it almost completely. It made them look smoky, and added mystery to my persona.

"Not worth it," I mumbled, but stayed in front of the mirror, enthralled by how bloody attractive I looked.

"You're welcome, Arthur," she smiled, knowing me well enough to decipher between my bitterness, tolerate my quirkiness, and look past my anger.

"Thanks Elizaveta."

I didn't move, though, and saw her putting on her coat from the reflection in the mirror.

"Well, I'll be off. See ya bright and early tomorrow. B-t-dubs, the outfit we picked out is killer! And the wig is super realistic!"

I could only hope that she's right.

Cleaning up the mess half-heartedly, I begin to think about the next few months, and now that it was in my mind, I seriously doubted that I could pull it off.

But I had to; my job was on the line.

My future as a journalist hung on this.

I was Alice Kirkland, 17 year old high school student.

Holy shit.

**Thanks so much for reading, and a special thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favourite'd, and pressed the alert button :)**

**Some changes will be made from the actual plot of the movie but I hope y'all will still enjoy it.**

**Beta'd by the super amazing RamenNoodlesXD (aren't ramen noodles amazing? nom.)**

**Thanks to the third**

**~HarponMOO **


	3. Part Three

With a wheezy sigh from its exhaust pipe, the car slowed to a stop. In retrospect, when Eli pulled up to my apartment in a white van, I should have decided to walk instead. But the sun was just rising, and the cool temperature didn't go well with my outfit.

"Give 'em hell," She smiled, and I gave her a blank look and opened the door.

All eyes were on me as I stepped out.

So there I was, in my plaid blouse adorned with thick black buttons. It was flashy, made out of bright fabrics in oranges, purples, and greens. Though I would never admit it, the large, loopy bow tied around my neck seemed tasteful. Still, the lack of friendly smiles unnerved me.

The worst part, though, which probably accounted for my red face and shifty gaze, was my skirt. Sure, it fell down to my knees and my legs weren't prickly with hair, but_ still; _it was rather embarrassing to feel a breeze under the polka-dotted garment. The way it tickled up my thighs and the self-conscious habit I'd acquired of pulling it down every five seconds only caused more distress.

'_Calm down, don't worry,'_ I told myself, yet I was still as bright as a clown's nose by the time I entered the building. Which was completely ridiculous by the way! It was huge and crowded, and I felt that if I just stood there, I'd get pushed along to some classroom in seconds.

"What do you think you're doing?" A teacher stood in front of me, blocking my path down the hallway.

I froze, instantly thinking that my cover had been blown.

'_Time to be a weasel, dear Arthur,'_ I thought to myself.

"I'm going to class! Because I'm a student! Who is a female! And in high school!" I think I added an enthusiastic nod, just to seem peppy. It was startling to feel hair hit my back.

"I figured you must be new… The teacher's lounge is that way, so go to the office to get your schedule." The man seemed surprisingly laid back, and just shrugged off my eagerness.

"Oh yes! I am a new student, righto!" By now I was hanging between embarrassed and relieved. I decided to be strung along in relief, as the day would probably be long and I didn't want to be upset already.

"Want me to take you there?" The teacher looked at me with some type of undecipherable emotion and I just shook my head hastily and walked away.

'_Shit, they're on to you,' _My conscience gave me unwanted input, but I tried my hardest to ignore it.

Things were even more difficult going to the office, because I was walking in the opposite direction of traffic in the hallway.

"Excuse me," I mumbled, until I was finally at the clear, glass door. I could see the secretary, and she could see me, but I still had to knock on the door before she got up and opened it. Sadly, she was taller than me. I could feel my masculinity slipping away, never mind the skirt.

"Why was that door locked?" I inquired.

"Oh, you must be new. You'll see soon" She had this shit-eating grin on her face, but it seemed sincere. I believed it was a crime to be this happy at six in the morning.

But her words worried me, and I could feel my faith in my 'peers' dwindling.

"My name is Alice Kirkland. Could I please get a class list?"

"Okey dokey! I hope you find the school pleasant." A strange accent accompanied her o's and a's. Western European, perhaps?

She walked back to her desk and looked up at me through short blonde hair.

"I like your skirt, that print was popular when I was a kid."

"Really?" I looked down at it again, yellow and blue dots on a black skirt. Seemed happy enough. Below it was a pair of high boots with a peek of leg warmers sticking out. I believe the children called this 'tight' nowadays. I don't know, I think that's the right word.

"Mhm, maybe the eighties are coming back."

"Well, thank you, Miss-"

"Oh, you can call me Emilie," Her voice was soft as she said this, her attitude still overly kind.

"Thank you, Miss Emilie,"

She printed out my schedule and handed it to me, muttering, "Good luck kid, high school's a real bitch."

With those parting words ringing in my ears, I stepped out into the swarm of lively bodies all over again and braced myself for a possibly hellish experience.

My first class was Geography, and I was confident about that because, while it wasn't my best subject, the American schooling system probably wouldn't be too strict on the matter.

As I struggled with the location of the room, I heard a bell go off. Everyone dispersed to their appropriate classrooms and I was left alone.

"Shit," a low grumble came from my throat and I chastised myself for my outburst of virility.

I look around, and then I saw it. A slightly dusty plaque, hanging haphazardly on the wall.

Room 206.

Opening the door I was greeted by an awkward silence. I felt the stares of everyone, including the teacher.

"Uhm, hello?" My voice sounded unnaturally high, and scared. Yet even that didn't gain any sympathy in the judgmental eyes of my new classmates.

"Decided not to show up to class?"

I didn't say anything, just let the teacher continue, the silent gaze still being given by all the students.

"Man, why don't we all do that? Why don't we all stay home and eat ice cream!"

A few kids snickered, I was still frozen.

"This isn't even important! What does it matter, I could have ate ice cream all day!"

"Actually sir," The voice that came out of my mouth was so fragile, I almost doubted it was mine, "it would be 'I could have _eaten _ice cream', not 'ate'. Simple mistake, truly."

I tried, but no nervous laughter came, so the room was quiet after that, all waiting for the large teacher's response.

Thankfully, it was a jovial burst of laughter and I felt at ease, dashing off to find a seat.

"So, what is your name, girl?" He sat down on the edge of his desk, peering at me with truly curious eyes. I wouldn't have thought him to be a professional at first glance, with his unruly dreadlocks and casual wear.

"Alice, my name is Alice Kirkland." With a mousy disposition I tugged on my blonde ponytails and readjusted my glasses.

"Nice, where are ya from?"

"Here," After I had spoken, I realised he meant my accent, but he moved on, firing more questions at me, grinning as I stumbled to respond.

"What do you want to be when you get older?" I was about to yammer off about how I had already found my dream job, but kept in mind that I was only 17.

"A uhm," I looked around the room and a black and white ball in the corner of the room caught my eye, "A football player."

After an outburst of snorts, I remembered that football in America meant something different entirely.

It didn't deter the man with dreadlocks, and he went on. I looked around again, wondering what the other students thought of this conversation. Catching the eyes of a boy with dull green eyes, I read his lips as he turned around to whisper to another boy.

"Like, what is she wearing? Totally lame."

"The fuck? Dots and plaid? Maybe she wants to fuckin' blind everyone, what a bitch."

Maybe I had heard them wrong, but it didn't seem that way. The teacher just dropped the chat and went to the back of the room to grab a book for me.  
>As he placed it into my hands, I felt instant enlightenment.<p>

I couldn't really blame _all_ of America for their ignorance. The schooling systems were shit. The book looked like it had been printed in the 70's.

Hell, I bet Czechoslovakia was still a country in there!

The door opened, and I looked up, ready to see the teacher rant again. But it seemed as if my breath was gone and I could only gape at the person walking in.

Perfect blond hair, long and wavy and not at all tangling or unintentionally mussed like mine. Deep blue eyes like cold ocean water, and a general look of lust in them. Slight stubble decorated his chin, but it only made his defined face more glorious.

Wait, what?  
>Glorious? Hell no.<p>

It's just...every school had a Mathias. You know, the boy everyone liked? All the way from the nerds to the sluts. The boy that people just wanted to look at. Even if their personality was shit.

I had just found Hetalia Academy's Mathias.

The day hadn't really gotten much better. I didn't enjoy getting yelled at in gym for not changing in the girls' locker room and putting on my clothes in a private bathroom stall instead. The teacher had even threatened to shoot me, and told me exactly where he kept his gun, as if that were some kind of effective intimidation tactic.

But, I still had my favourite class left, and I was looking forward to it, because I knew it could instantly brighten up my day. So, I walked into English class with high expectations. Surely, I couldn't be let down any further.

Luckily, I found a place to sit just as the bell rang.

"Excuse me, but, that's like, totally my chair." It was the boy from my first class. I noticed he was wearing a pink skirt, and had matching bright pink nails as well.

"Oh, sorry, didn't know these were assigned," I grabbed my notebook and binder and stood up.

As he slid into the seat, he smirked again, "They aren't."

The other fellow he was with, the one with a random curl and dark eyes, huffed and sat down next to him. I heard a hiss, and looked into the scariest pair of eyes I'd ever seen in my life. A dark purple, holding swirls of insanity. They made Mr. Braginski seem like a kind, gentle man.

"Leave."

So, I _most certainly_ stood my ground and glared back at her, until she folded.

Just shitting you. I bolted out of that section of desks before she could bore a hole into my head from her laser glare.

I found a spot in the front, and I slid in just as the teacher walked in. He was around my height, maybe a bit taller. Square framed glasses covered sky blue eyes, and when he smiled I felt my stomach drop.

"Haven't seen you 'round here, new?" I was almost too smitten with his appearance to notice his atrocious grammar. Almost, mind you. I still took a mental note that this man was an idiot.

"Yes, I'm new, Alice." I introduced myself, trying not to stutter.

He extended a hand, walking forward until he was right in front of me. I could smell the clean scent of soap on him, which was like a breath of fresh air in this school filled with Axe'd and Old Spice'd males.

I took his hand and it was extremely warm, and only a little bit rough. He held on for an awkward second longer than normal, but when I pulled my hand back to my side, it felt a bit lonely.

Can hands feel that way? If so, it was most certainly a lonely hand.

"You can call me Alfred, the administration wouldn't let me go by 'The Hero'," He gave me a wink, and for a moment I thought he was trying to be funny. I disregarded it and looked at him expectantly, waiting for the lesson.

"I know ya'll don't like the mushy gushy, lovey dovey stuff," He looks pointedly at a few students, "But I'm not getting paid to be awesome. Open up to Act 1, Scene 1, Line 169," He was still standing in front of me, and I didn't know what he thought I should do. Obviously, I wouldn't have the book, or whatever they were reading.

"Here, you can borrow mine," The voice was soft, unnaturally so, and when I turned to find the person who said it, I was face to face with a girl sitting next to me.

"Thanks," I smiled, trying to be kind, and scooted close to her.

"We're reading A Midsummer Night's Dream, it's one of my favourites."

That was shocking, she wasn't a complete airhead.

"It's mine too."

"Hey, any volunteers to read?" I could tell Alfred was talking to me, the way his eyes flickered down and tried to catch mine. I chose to stare at the desk before me.

"I'll read it, Mr. Jones," A flirty tone that edged its way under my skin instantly replied.

"All right, Feliks, give it a shot."

"_I, like, swear to thee, by Cupid's most strongest bow,_

_By his, totally, bestest arrow_-"

"All right, that sucked. Class, we'll finish on our own-" A synchronised groan, Alfred gave in, "Fine, with partners."

The blond boy, Feliks, just grinned, like he'd been incredible or something.

The English teacher was rambling on about something to do with how hungry he was, and I began to wonder how this building picked its teachers. He had the worst grammar out of any grown adult I'd seen in a long time.

"I'm Mattie Williams, in case you cared" The soft looking girl spoke again. It wasn't snazzy or snarky, she just seemed to genuinely doubt that anyone would care about her name.

"Hullo, Mattie, you don't seem to be as philistine as your fellow peers."

"I am not really associated with them," Again, her voice seemed more wistful than witty. But I didn't question it, and she led me through the lines of a very familiar play. And when the bell rang, I didn't leave the class with dread, but with hope that the rest of the day would be as good.

But there I was again, with that stupid emotion of _hope_. Did it ever lead to anything other than disappointment?

As I made my way through the lunch line, I tried to mask my appalled demeanour.

"Do you have anything with less grease?" I asked the lunch person. Honestly, I couldn't tell if it was a girl or a boy, with a long pony-tail, but a male face.

"No tasty food here, aru," He just smiled apologetically, and handed me a plate with a mass of equal parts bread, butter, and cheese.

'This is absolute shit...but, it'd make a good story,' I noted happily, and found a pen in my back pocket to mark it down on my hand as I made my way down the line.

Feeling much better now that I had an idea for my basis story, I looked around for a table, hopefully one where the cool people sat. I didn't need to become a loser all over again.

Then I saw that boy again, decided he must be fairly popular, and made my way over towards him.

"Hullo _Felliks_," I smiled as I sat down.

"It is Feliks."

"Oh okay," I tried to play the cute card, because I was a girl after all and this would have to have some benefits. Like, worming my way into their hearts quicker.

"What the fuck is wrong with your face?"

"Like, do you have to sneeze?"

I stopped trying to look cute, and sat down at the table with the two guys.

"So, what can I call you?" I asked the boy with the brown eyes and dirty mouth.

"Fuck off." He crossed his arms, and decided that it'd be more dramatic to turn away.

"He's Lovino," A low breath caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up, and I turned around to be faced with those frightening dark purple eyes from before.

"Oh, hi there." I squeaked.

When did kids get so scary?

"And you can call me Natasha."

I just nodded my head, and pulled out a notebook full of questions I'd prepared nights previous.

"Do any of you plan on not going to college?"

Blank stares… no, seriously.

I couldn't tell whether they didn't understand, or if I had something in my teeth.

"Why do you care?" Natasha countered.

"Just, curious..."

I was saved though, because everyone averted their eyes upwards and away from my flustered face.

It was the attractive man from Geography, the one who had been late as well.

"Bonjour, I'm Francis."

I watched the appeal slip away, the more he spoke with that horrible French accent.

"You are quite a tempting young woman," he smiled, but it looked like he was leering instead.

_'Idiot.'_

"Why, thank you." I said aloud, my eyebrows twitching imperceptibly beneath my thick bangs.

"Would you like for me to show you around school sometime?" He didn't even _attempt _to hide his lust-filled ogle.

_'I'd rather kill myself.'_

"Sounds nice."

"After school z'en?"

_'If there is a God, could you please strike me dead now?'_

"Sure," I don't know what I was thinking, maybe I was just trying to play a part, but I winked.

He stared at my non-existent chest, and I made a note to never let him meet Elizaveta because together, they'd become a weapon of mass destruction.

"I'll wait for you by your locker; can you tell me which one it is?"

_'I can tell you where the nearest abattoir is.'_

"Yeah, locker 524, it's by the really good water fountain."

He just smiled again, and walked away.

"Wow, Francis really seems to like you, lucky bitch."

"Thanks, Lovino," I didn't know whether it was a compliment or not, but I decided to take it as one.

I finished lunch in a haze, still worried about after school.

Really, I was worried for the wrong reasons.

When the ending bell finally rang, and I made my way to my locker, nothing was there.

Literally, _nothing_.

Okay, the physical metal structure of my locker was there, but all my books, notes, even my backpack was gone.

"Dipshits!" I growled, and was startled when I felt a hand touch my shoulder.

"They do it to all the new kids, don't worry," It was Mattie, with her calmness radiating for miles.

"And who exactly is _they_?" I snapped at her, though I knew it wasn't her fault.

"Francis Bonnefoy, and his friends." She jabbed a thumb behind herself, and I saw an albino guy, a tan guy, and Francis laughing like stealing my school material was the most hilarious thing in the world.

"Is Feliks crew part of that too?"

" 'Course, they all mess around together. It's not so bad once you get used to it." She added the last part at the expense of the rage face I had just pulled.

"Do you have to deal with their shit?"

"Only sometimes, they don't really notice me much." She fixed her glasses and I mimicked her.

"This sucks," I sighed, and closed my empty locker.

"Hey, would you like to go to a bookstore with me?"

After the incredulous look I gave her, Mattie rushed to explain further.

"Well, I could help you get some materials that you'd need for class. And if I don't bother you too much, we could get something to drink. The one I go to serves the best Maple Coffee, and also I can drive you home. I have a car; it was my older brother's. You've met him, he's a teacher here. If you don't want me to drive you home, I can take you to the bus stop-"

"It sounds lovely, Mattie."

I smiled, and she did too.

We were just two girls walking out of school.

Just two teenagers, surviving normal teenage things like bullies.

I felt my chest swell with something. I felt full.

I had English class to look forward to, as well as a friend.

I had survived my first day of high school, and well, after I killed Elizaveta for picking out this horrendous outfit, things would be just fine.

**Oh silly Arthur, there you go again with the hope xD**

**Part three :) I hope it was okey dokey, and that you find it entertaining even though we haven't gotten to the **_**good**_** part yet.**

**Also, there are no OC's, and if you can't figure out who a character is, let me know and I'll add a little note at the top or bottom :D**

**Thanks so much for reading, and for all the reviews/favourites/alerts. It means so much to me!**

**Beta'd by RamenNoodlesXD and Chikanpo, thank you guys :3**

**~HarponMOO**


	4. Part Four

The bookstore was a nice place, and as Mattie led me in, she pointed out a section that I might be interested in and went over to order her Maple Coffee.

I took that as an opportunity to text Roderich.

_I have an idea for the story. Childhood Obesity and School Lunches. :)_

I slipped my phone back into my pocket as she came back, smiling.

"Want to sit down?" she suggested kindly.

After an agreeable nod, we left the book section to sit down. It wasn't very crowded; the only person I could see was a young blond man buying a comic book. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't say anything with certainty unless he turned around.

"Do you need a ride home?" When I heard Mattie's voice, I nearly jumped in surprise. I had completely forgotten about her. She just didn't seem memorable to me, but I made a point in trying to be kind.

"Yes please, but could I get my materials for class first?"

"Oh yeah sure!"

"Say, how often do you eat food from the cafeteria?" I might as well use this time to get some more information.

Mattie just gave me a confused look, but answered anyway, "Maybe once a week, I'm not really sure."

"And, how often do you work out?" This was quality information, what I was getting. And I probably would have gotten more, but my phone rang. It was from _Elizaveta_.

"Hello, mum." I flashed Mattie an apologetic look, and she just looked at me like she knew exactly what it was like to have a nosy mother.

"Have a good day at school, honey?" Elizaveta's voice was a fake happy, and I could tell she was enjoying this.

"Well, I wish I had worn a better outfit. The lady who picked it out was a wanker." I turned away when I added the last part.

"Glad to know your day was good." she giggled unabashedly.

"You completely disregar-"

"So, I about died once I read the text you sent." She burst out into a fresh round of laugher, and I cringed at the crinkling sound it made over the phone.

"But that was for Ro- Dad. It was for dad." I cast a look to Mattie to see if she noticed.

"Well, your _father_ says, quote, that is a shit idea, unquote. Love ya lots," And then the Hungarian hung up on me. I think my face looked a bit dumb, because I was confused, and when I felt a tap on my shoulder, I just jumped with that incredulous look on my face.

"Ah!"

"Alfred, don't scare her," Purple eyes were narrowed, as they looked behind me. I turned around with a careful expression.

"Mr. Jones?" I don't know why my voice sounded so shaky. I wasn't scared, or nervous. I wasn't really surprised by the fact that it was him.

"So, you've met my sis," He slung an arm around the startled blonde girl, who cringed slightly.

"Alfred, you're hurting my shoulder," her voice was but a whisper, though, and the fool didn't hear her.

"Yes, she's extremely pleasant." _'Unlike you.'_ I kept a sweet smile though.

"Have you asked her yet?" Alfred addressed his sister for once.

Looking uncomfortable, she breathed out, "No I haven't."

But his smile just grew, "Hey, Ali, want to join," the English teacher leans in for dramatic effect, "The _Numerators_?"

"Where did that name come from?" I asked, actually quite curious.

"Just a nickname," He shrugged nonchalantly, before grinning "Cool, huh?"

"No, not really, and what exactly is _The Numerators_?" I questioned, and was startled as the gleam in his eyes grew.

"It's this really awesome math club, I know you won't believe it, but I'm the leader of it! Well, the teacher leader," I studied him more thoroughly. He looked like he could barely speak English, and now he was also sponsoring a math group. The strangeness of it all didn't escape me, but…

"Well, I guess I'll join." I regretted it the moment I said it.

"Hey, Alice, I'll drive you now," Mattie's soft voice broke up the moment between Alfred and I.

"I haven't gotten my supplies yet," I unlocked my phone to check the time, and realised it was getting late. How long had I spent talking to this git anyway?

"I'll take her, you should get back to pa, you know how he worries," Alfred suggested. Only it wasn't a suggestion because his voice was demanding and so the purple eyed girl just nodded and I was left only with Alfred.

"Whaddya need?" I cringed at his poor language. Apparently, I haven't gotten used to it yet, and probably never will.

"I think going to Staples will suffice." I huffed and let him lead me out to his truck.

"So, where did ya live before?" He cast me a curious glance as he buckled his seat belt.

"England." I tried to keep my voice dry, maybe he'd quit attempting conversation.

"Oh wow! Almost as cool as America."

I remained silent until we entered the store because I didn't really trust my voice at the moment.

"Hey, Ali, what happened to all your stuff? Why do you need to get it all over again?" His blue eyes radiated innocence so I coughed daintily and replied.

"Some guys stole it."

"Gettin' bullied already?"

I decided not to answer that, because he could see the frown on my face and that spoke loud enough.

"Don't let it get ya down, you're a real smart gal, and when you get older, none of that stuff'll matter," Alfred scratched the back of his neck before picking up a calculator and holding it out questioningly to me.

"Teachers just have to say that so their lame students don't commit suicide."

He dropped the package into the cart and looked at me with as much seriousness as he could muster.

"Nu-huh! I mean it, for serious! You're smart, and nice, and pretty-," his eyes widened like saucers, "-pretty cool, and you'll see. Once you get outta high school, guys will be begging to have a go at ya."

_Pedophile_. "Gee, thanks Mr. Jones," I replied, trying to put as much sincerity in the words as I could.

I finished my school shopping, barely being able to pay for it all but in no way letting Alfred know that.

When his hand brushed against mine, I fought the urge to grab it, and instead pressed the button before leaving the store.

_That was easy._

I wished it to be true.

* * *

><p>It was Friday. I had completed a full week at school. I laid my head against my pillow and reflected on what I had learnt.<p>

First of all; gym was hell.

The teacher, who I now called by his first name, Vash, to annoy him, was a psychopath. Everyday he'd warm us up by making us run a mile at gunpoint. Then he'd split us up, and let the weaker kids be pummelled to death in a friendly game of dodgeball.

It was like survival of the fittest, and I certainly was not fit.

Worst of all, Natasha was in my class. She had that gaze that made me lose my focus and, before I knew it, I was getting hit with dozens of plastic balls, and it really hurt.

Lunch was even more disgusting. The first few days I made the mistake of not packing, and was forced to choose between fat and carbs, or fat and calories.

I usually just drank water and ate a bruised apple and tried to pretend I couldn't taste the pesticides.

"This is horrible," I once mentioned to Mattie.

"Yeah, I know," She sighed.

And that was where the conversation ended. No aggressive protests or ideas on how to fix it. Just a comment and an airy agreement between us.

English class was by far the worst class I had. Not because it was uninformative, or boring, but because I actually _liked_ it. I _liked_ the way Alfred slaughtered the English language. I _liked_ his surprising amount of knowledge, his insight. I _loved_ the day he asked me to read out loud. Not like anyone would ever assume that, because I was careful to keep a scowl on my face during the entirety of the period.

We had moved off of Midsummer, and we're now starting Macbeth; this semester apparently bearing tastes of William.

"Okay, Alice, want to start as the son? Act four, scene two, line 44." His voice was forceful now, and I didn't want to back out of it anyway.

"Was my father a traitor, mother?" It felt weird calling Alfred my mother.

"Ay, that he was." Though his regular speech was horrendous, he read Shakespeare beautifully, a talent only few could possess.

"What is a traitor?" My throat was closed off a bit, and I felt extremely self-conscious. Did he know _I_ was a traitor?

"Why, one that takes an oath and breaks it." His voice turned cold here, and I struggled against the urge to break out into a sweat.

"And be all traitors that do so?"

"Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged." A foul sense of justice lay in his words.

"And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?" I had a sickening sense that he asked me to read this on purpose, and I dared my eyes to look into his blue ones, radiating kindness and innocence and I couldn't look away.

It was a mistake, because I wasn't there anymore. I was back in school, reliving a horrible memory.

_I was fourteen years old. I was in the middle of puberty, and currently a gangly mess of spots and peach fuzz facial hair. I was hanging out with my friend Kiku, and he, of course, wasn't talking much. Looking back on it, we didn't have much in common. Besides our love of tea, and tolerance of solitude, we were strangers to each other. _

"_Do you think we'll get asked to the dance?"_

_The dance was a big deal, and people in my year were only allowed to go if an upperclassman invited them._

"_Yes, Kiku, because we have so many friends," The so was drawn out, but that was unnecessary because he already knew no one liked us._

_I still hadn't gotten my braces off, and my eyebrows were as dominant of my face as ever._

_His cellphone went off. I didn't know why he had one. They were expensive, and we were far too young to own one. _ _I guess he was just technologically advanced._

"_Moshi-moshi." He greeted in his usual mild and polite manner. A beat of silence._ _"Seriously?" His eyes widened fractionally as he said this, and I just stared at him in slight curiosity. _

"_Hai."_

_Then he hung up and looked at me, his eyes sparkling in a rare show of emotion._

"_Heracles just asked me to the dance."_

"_No." I shook my head, smiling a little because this was obviously a very elaborate prank._

"_He did."_

"_No." I was frowning now, because I believed it. It just meant that I was the only odd one out now. It wasn't the two of us, who were weird and alone together. It would only be me on that Friday night, crying into a pillow to muffle the sounds so my nosy older brothers wouldn't bother me._

_I felt sliced, I felt broken._

_I felt like I'd been betrayed._

_But I hadn't been, not really. Kiku wasn't lying to me; we had no oath to be alone together. Just a mutual understanding that, apparently, only _I_ felt._

"Alice?" Alfred's voice snapped me out of it.

"Yeah, sorry, I just spaced out for a second." I was about to throw up, so I ran out of the room, leaving the book open on my desk.

"Then liars and swearers are fools; for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men and hang them up."

It was disheartening to realise that, for once, I was the majority.

* * *

><p>Fast forward a week.<p>

I had finally settled into a normal routine. School during the day, writing during the night. Roderich hadn't been pleased by all the ideas I was giving him, and told me constantly that I was hanging out with the wrong people.

But my friends were great! Mattie was still the closest one to me, and I'd go to her house sometimes and we'd read poetry and talk about how dumb the guys at school were.

I found out that she had a huge crush on Francis. I didn't find out by her telling me of course, but when she had gone downstairs to grab some maple syrup, I snooped around a bit, trying to get into the mindset of a teenage girl at Hetalia Academy.

"Hey Al-" She stopped.

I stopped, too.

I dropped her diary.

She dropped her syrup.

She cleared her throat.

"Er, sorry?"

"Yeah." I think her eyes began to water and stressed breaths escaped from her slightly opened mouth.

"I'm sorry, Mattie." I felt sick, and I didn't know what to do.

Why couldn't I have just sat at the edge of her bed?

"Yeah," and then she was crying and I didn't exactly know what to do, so I walked over and patted her back and she moaned about how a guy like him will never like her. She knew that's what I read, because, well, that was the only thing in her bloody diary.

"Why do you like him? Why do you like a guy like that?" I soothed, my voice strained because I didn't know how to be comforting. I was a twenty five year old man in a wig, and unrequited love in high school wasn't my area of expertise.

"He… he's charming, and direct. And when he looks at me, he doesn't see through me. He _sees_ me, even if it's for a second. Even if he doesn't like what he sees."

I thought that sounded beautifully poetic, and I wondered if an article on crushes would be interesting.

"What about Tino?" He was a small guy in the math club. Cute, too.

"He's practically married to Berwald." She just groaned. Then she looked up at me with a tear-stained face and laughed at the melodrama of it all.

I laughed too, and soon everything was pretty much okay.

"Let's never do that again."

I agreed.

And most moments weren't like that. I found myself enjoying school more and more. Though no idea had been accepted for the article yet, I was really having a good time.

Besides Tino, there was an island girl with long brown hair; June, and a boy with glasses; Eduard, as a part of _The Numerators._

We'd practice after school on Tuesdays and compete every other weekend. Surprisingly, Alfred wasn't incompetent in that field.

One day, he asked me to stay after to help decorate the sign for the bake sale.

I agreed, because he was smiling and my chest was fluttering at the sight.

"I'll need a ride home though."

"'Course," And he just grinned wider.

"So," I grabbed a tin of blue paint and set out to make a B.

"You going to prom?" He asked casually, uninterested, as if teachers were supposed to ask about that stuff.

"N-no. Probably not."

He frowned, and his fingers froze on the lid of red paint.

"Why not?"

"It's not fun to dance alone."

I regretted saying it, because a wanker like him would probably set me up with someone. I didn't want to dance with someone. I think I'd only like to dance with Alfred, but I'd rather die than admit that aloud.

"Mattie'll dance with ya!"

I damned my face to hell for turning a bright red.

"I don't want to dance with a _girl_."

He just shrugged, and started to paint some circles on the white paper.

"Are you a good dancer, Ali?"

"Don't call me that." I glared at him for a second, but dropped it as I answered, "No, I'm horrible."

He just laughed, and told me he doubted it.

And things were perfectly sweet and fine until I heard it. That infuriating voice, which could only belong to….

"Sup playahs! Whuz happenin' Mr. Jones?"

"Oh, Feliks, are you here to help?" His voice seemed a bit disappointed, but maybe I was just imagining that, for some dumb reason.

It wasn't that I liked Alfred. I mean, I couldn't. I was lying to him! I wasn't a girl, nor was I seventeen.

Besides, he was infuriating. I _hated_ him.

"Whoa, Ali, you're about to break that paintbrush, why are you holding it so night?" And then his fingers were on mine, prying away the abused artistic tool.

"I have to go," I gritted through clenched teeth.

"Do ya need a ride?"

"Like, don't worry. I got a totally bitchin' ride and I'll totes take her home."

"Really?" I was surprised at his sudden kindness, and also a little suspicious.

"Fer shur!"

I couldn't weasel my way out of that, and I supposed I was happy that he couldn't spend time alone with Alfred, at least not at the moment.

"Thank you, for this." I mentioned as he started the engine of his hot pink Crown Victoria.

"It's like, très importante that I show you how this school works, so like, don't mention it." Then he launched into a speech I wish I could forget about.

"So the people you're hanging out with now, are like losers. Like, seriously? Who does math for fun? Bleh. Anyways, it's not too late for you to become cool, you just gotta ditch the gang of dorks. So I'm gonna like, invite you to a party. It's at The Court, and if you can hang with us then, you'll totally be in."

The car stopped in front of my apartment and I wondered how he knew where it was.

"I'll, uhm, think about it." Then I dashed inside and tried not to puke.

I couldn't ditch Mattie, she'd been nothing but kind to me.

But with them, with Felik and Francis and Lovino; that was where the story was. I knew it, too. No one wanted to read about how someone won the Mathlympics. However, a piece on sex, violence, and drugs. That would sell.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I answered it without looking at the screen.

"Speak."

"Arthur, we've decided." It was Elizaveta, and I didn't know what _we _she was speaking of.

"Well, what is it then?"

I felt her smirk at my impatience, "You're going to be taped."

"What? Why?"

"The boss man is curious as to why all your ideas are shit," Her bored drawl only angered me further.

"Fine then."

I knew my mind had been made up for me, because they wanted a story.

And the story laid in The Court.

**Belgium is the secretary, Swizterland is the gym teacher, and China is the lunch person of undecided gender. :D**

**Pairings will be... not told right now because it'll contain spoilers :P**

**Thanks SO MUCH for all the reviews/favourites/alerts, and Happy Holidays ^^ (also, if you want a funnier, faster paced UsUk story, please check out the link in my profile, I wrote it with my buddy and it'd mean a lot if you guys wanted to read it) /gets shot for shameless self-promation **

**Thanks to RamenNoodlesXD for being an awesome beta~ (and to _Cacow_ for pointing out a mistake and being an amazing review :3) **


	5. Part Five

The day before the party, Elizaveta _kidnapped_ me.

It was four thirty in the morning on a Friday in September, and when I opened my eyes, her green ones peered back at me.

"You didn't." I groaned, then faced the other way and prayed that I didn't have morning breath.

"Oh, but I did." I watched her lips pull back in a smirk from the corner of my eye.

"Why am I here?" But she didn't reply and the van started, going down a familiar route.

"We're getting your eyebrows done," Her smile turned malicious, because she knew it was something I didn't approve of.

"Nope."

"Actual-"

"Nope."

"Arthur," she sighed, "Don't you want to look killer for the party? You might make friends with the right people!"

I considered this, but decided that I didn't care, "Mattie's fine."

"Who?" She asked with furrowed brows as she parked the car at the mall.

"The girl I've been hanging out with, you might call her a _biffal_," I explained while wondering if the mall would even be opened this early.

"Hun, only thirteen year old girls still use the term _bff_, where have you been doing your research?" She didn't sound appalled or anything, just confused.

"I've heard good things about Urban Dictionary's credibility," I huffed, but dropped it as we entered a dead mall.

It was quiet, the only sound being the constant drone of the machines and our irregular breaths. None of the stores were lit and we stumbled around in the darkness. The whole place was covered in an eerie atmosphere that made me nervous.

"Eli, is this _legal_?" I whispered as we took an escalator to the upper level.

"Of course, got a special appointment, just for you." She then dragged me to the only store with lights on, and a crooked sign that proclaimed: Miracle Brows.

"It really wasn't necessary to go through all this trouble, just for me." I stalled, standing outside of the tortuous place and staring at it with barely-concealed dread.

"Oh, no problem, Arthur. I did it just for you," And then she was beaming and I was being pushed into a chair. When I felt the straps tightening around my wrists, I shrieked.

"I _did_ say this was a special appointment," She reminded me with a smirk.

The room smelt like oils and not in a good way. A chill passed through me and I wondered if it was the fact that I was still in only my boxers and t-shirt, or that I was scared shitless. The person who strapped me down still hadn't spoken.

I swallowed my pride in an audible gulp, and turned to Elizaveta. "Will it hurt?"

"Probably." Her smile was merciless.

The first step didn't hurt, though. The man (who still hadn't uttered a word) began to wash my face off with a cotton ball, and then with baby powder.

I got a good look at his face as he leaned over me.

"Gupta?" I asked, disbelief evident in my voice. So, after getting fired at a newspaper company, he waxes eyebrows? It's a sad life, after all.

"Yes."

Then he pulled out a popsicle stick looking thing, and in his other hand there was a jar of wax. I proceeded to do some unmanly things which will not be divulged in, which resulted in Elizaveta holding my hand reassuringly.

"Please, I don't want to do this," I looked into her eyes, begging her, pleading silently with my gaze.

"Don't worry, hun it'll be over before you-"

"Holy mother _fuck_, fuck, **fuck**! Get off of me you damn twat, this is my face! Stop you imprudent fool!" Gupta was peeling away the wax and pulling on my skin. It felt warm and raw and I was very much in pain.

When he dropped the first strip, I saw a healthy layer of coarse black hair. For chrissakes, had he waxed away _all_ of my eyebrows?

The answer to that was no, because he carried on with his ministrations for several more minutes and more and more strips full of hair fell to the ground.

"Is everywhere on you that hairy?" Elizaveta teased, I decided not to answer her and instead pictured their rotting corpses to make myself feel better.

But finally, it was over. He applied some silky liquid to my face and it cooled off the abused skin. With another cotton ball he wiped it away, and then smiled and held out his hand proudly.

"You're making me pay for that?" I turned to my Hungarian friend, my voice a chilling calm.

"Heh, forgot my wallet, silly me," She flicked her forehead in some absurd representation of how silly she was.

I handed Gupta a twenty dollar bill. When he kept his palm outstretched, I dropped pennies into the awaiting hand slowly, until he begrudgingly turned away.

I didn't speak until we were in the car, and I looked in the rearview mirror inconspicuously to examine the damage.

Red skin was exposed in place of my thick eyebrows, and only a thin layer of dark hair was left. It screamed masculinity as much as Alfred screamed intelligence.

"Oh here you go," She tossed me a bag as she started her engine. It's a knee length dress that looked horribly feminine and see-through and a small black object. Oh shit, I forgot I was going to be taped!

"Do I really need to be recorded?" My voice was shaking, and my face still hurt.

"Arthur, what were your last five ideas?"

"Cafeteria food, American obesity, quality of staff compared to amount paid, poor grammar used by faculty and how it effects student's-" I stared at her _I-don't-know-what-goes-on-in-your-mind-but-you-should-listen-to-me-more-often-fool_ expression and huffed. "You could've just said yes."

* * *

><p>School that day was difficult, and I found myself dreading English class because I knew Elizaveta and everyone from the office would be watching with baited breath and fingers greasy with popcorn.<p>

At lunch I was nudged out of my trance by a worried Mattie. Her hands were twisting the pattern of her long red skirt and her smile seemed unsure.

"Uhm, I-I heard you got invited to a party at The Court.."

"Yes," I let my eyes flicker over to Feliks' table. He was nibbling on a pretzel stick and everyone was laughing and looking gorgeous.

"How is that fucking possible?" I murmured to myself. There I was eating a mysteriously burnt turkey sandwich I had made myself. My face was a self-conscious red and I was certain I had some mayonnaise on my cheek.

"They're just cooler than us, it's not so bad." She joined in my gazing. For a moment I wonder what her life was like before I came to Hetalia Academy, I didn't see her talk to many other people besides the Numerators and me. For the most part she was overlooked or bullied. And from what would accidentally slip in our conversations, or what I would see in my visits, her home life was the same.

"Would you like to go the party with me, Mattie?" I asked, because her wistfulness was really a shame.

"I'd love too," She smiled, her eyes shining, and I knew that I had done something right.

But as English class started, that feeling went away.

"Whoa! Ali! The brows are gone!" Alfred yelled in surprise.

"Well, yes." The room seemed quiet, and I could feel the eyes of the other students on me. I sat down and my desk wobbled a bit but I tried to look sure of myself.

"Ah, I found them endearing," He pouted like a child, and I couldn't pick up any vibes of sarcasm from him. Was he even smart enough to use sarcasm?

I just placed the book on my desk and buried my face in it.

"It's okay, Alice, it looks nice," A soft voice tickled my ears. Oh Mattie, painfully polite.

"Really?" I whispered back from my book. The class had started, and someone slaughtering Shakespeare covered our conversation from the rest of the students.

"Of course, they really add a girly touch to you." A backhanded compliment that made me dread the knowledge of what piece of anatomy lay below my deck.

Alfred grabbed my attention when he cleared his throat. He locked his baby blues on my green ones and ended class wonderfully.

"_Excelled wretch! Perdition catch my soul,_

_But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,_

_Chaos is come again_."

The bell rang but I stayed frozen in my spot, smiling warmly before I caught myself and scowled.

"Stay safe this weekend, okay?"

I don't know what I replied with, it was probably jumbled up and confusing because he looked at me like I was mentally ill, so I just nodded my head and dashed off to find my next class.

* * *

><p>"Hey, you look nice," I commented as I made my way into Mattie's car. She had a white beret over a thick braid pulled to the side. She was wearing a white jumper that looked soft enough to sleep on, and some type of black skirt.<p>

"Thanks, you too." I was wearing the dress Elizaveta picked out for me and every five seconds muttering a curse her way. I had to shave my legs _and_ my armpits to wear this monstrosity. Do you know how dumb I felt standing in the checkout line with Twinings, crisps, and a fucking pink razor and straw-fucking-berry scented shaving cream?

It hugged me in all the wrong places and when I sat down it scooted up near my bum like some perverted parasite.

"Are you nervous?" I asked her, because she was gripping the steering wheel with Godzilla-like strength and I was concerned for my safety as she pulled out of my driveway.

"Aren't you?" She reached out with one hand to fiddle with the stereo, finally settling on an oldie's station.

"No, definitely not." Then we started laughing because it wasn't true at all.

This could be my last chance to find a story.

And I act dreadful in social gatherings.

"_Is this the real life, is this just fantasy~"_ The words floated from around us, and suddenly my spirits were boosted.

I picked up on the next part, and belted out, "I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy!" I heard chuckling, but then Mattie's voice was singing along too. "Because I'm easy come, easy go. Little high, little low."

We were smiling like fools now, and I pulled out my phone to use as a makeshift microphone and dramatically crooned, "Mama, just killed a man, put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he's dead."

Her soft words gained confidence and she raised a hand theatrically, "Mama, life had just began, and now I've gone and thrown it all away." She reached for the high notes, and I snickered.

"Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters."

We were gasping for breath, and didn't start again until I felt the urge to air guitar at the epic solo. Mattie was shaking her head haphazardly, her beret and pristine braid be damned.

"I see a little silhouetto of a man, scaramouche, scaramouche, will you do the fandango?"

Together we chanted, "Thunderbolt and lighting very very frightening me," In faux deep voices.

The air condition tickled me and we were crying tears of laughter, only calming down near the end of the song.

"No we will not let him go!" She screamed.

"Let him go!"

We missed a few lines when Mattie's focus was pulled back towards the road as we entered the highway.

"So you think you can love me and leave me die?" I sang to her, jokingly.

"Oh baby~"

I worked on my air guitar until the very end.

"Nothing really matters," I droned sadly and she joined in, "to me."

"Any way the wind blows." And we cha'ed for the epic ending, before looking at each other and panicking because we looked like complete nutcases.

"And we're almost there," She sighed.

"Here, I'll fix your hair real quick, and you know, I heard eyeliner like that was really stylish."

"Sure, I guess." And I leaned over and pinned her beret back on. As my fingers nimbly re-braided her hair, I wondered when I'd gotten so good at it.

"Thanks, Alice." We parked in front of the shady building. A large group of people were sitting outside, some guys drinking and setting fire to metal objects.

"This… this is what high schoolers do?" I heard the flush of my hopes going down the toilet.

A pale white head stumbled towards her car, and she rolled down the window.

"Hello, Gilbert." Mattie's voice was cool, and I wondered if he had done something to her in the past.

"Wrong place, losers." The smell of cheap beer invaded my personal space, and I realised the place was stained with it.

"We were invited here, actually." I informed him, glaring into red eyes. Pfft, a damn albino wasn't going to tell me off.

"Why would you be at a place the awesome me was also at?" He asked, as if it was good logic.

"We go to the same school, idiot."

Rolling his eyes, he turned back and yelled, "Who invited the geeks?"

I saw Feliks smirk, and felt something warm hit my face. People were _throwing_ _fire_ at us! Well, warm sticks that laid around as the hoodlums fiddled around with heat.

"Suck it, losers!" He yelled as Mattie sped off.

It was quiet, and I faced the window until her voice tried to comfort me.

"It wasn't like we'd want to hang out with them anyway." Tears were filling her purple eyes, and a few spilled over. Nothing went as planned; all my excitement was wasted, because even if given a second chance, I would always be dumb dorky Arthur.

"Yeah, they're lame. And dumb." I added, feeling my throat ache with the desire to burst into tears.

"Really dumb." Her voice was all chocked up, and silent sobs wracked her body.

"Super dumb." A few tears slid down my face, and I wiped them away, laughing bitterly.

"So dumb." She joined me in the dramatic irony of it all. There I was, a grown-up, crying over the same things that they told me wouldn't matter when I left school.

* * *

><p>Roderich was fuming, and I couldn't blame him.<p>

"Do you know that both of our jobs are on the line! Do you know that? Does that ever cross your tiny brain." He flicked my head and I just took it.

"Hopefully, I reached rock bottom with you, Kirkland."

"Hopefully means 'with hope' and described a subject who feels hopeful so it should have been-"

"Aldo, may I speak to you?" A Russian accented voice broke my correction of Roderich's language. I turned around slowly, and was face to face with Ivan.

"Yes, sir?"

"You are not doing well with your story, I have heard. Little bird tells it to me." He looked over at Roderich.

"Well, you see, it's just a slump, I'll get right on it, and the final piece will be ste-" I was cut off carelessly.

"I have solution. Your brother helps me with this." Instant shit, whatever the idea was. "Him and I will go to school with you, da? Help you gain popularity."

The circle my mouth was making could attract flies, it was so big.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Don't worry, we won't have too many classes with you. I'll be sure to stay out of your way, I am not so good with the social aspect, but I can be threatening, and scary."

"Are you serious?"

I was answered with a smile.

**Sorry for the delay, just lost some inspiration. So if you'd like to see this story continue, please let me know. **

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favourite'd/alert'd this story. A special thanks for _Treegona_ and _Cacow_ for not only being lovely reviewers but for having awesome ideas that I totally used this chapter. :D ****And of course to my beta. RamenNoodlesXD... my cover as a *literate* writer would be blown without her~**


	6. Part Six

On Sunday night, I had a revolution. Not the Jesus kind, but the kind when things suddenly came together and everything was mapped out clear before me like a drop of ink onto the snowy background of my life.

It was simple, really. I had been acting too much like myself. Well, myself with boobs.

If I was going to be cool it meant several things. First of all, I needed to mask my intelligence to come off as normal and friendly, not superior and haughty. I needed short skirts, and tights, and some of those dreadfully tight pants all the kids were wearing these days. Maybe some better makeup, a cuter giggle, and a higher tolerance for idiots.

So when Monday morning strolled around , I looked like the biggest whore Hetalia Academy had ever seen. I mean, I was sure my brother Peter just about lost his shit when I sat down next to him in Government class.

"Arthur?" He whispered, holding back a laugh. I could feel his smirk. It made me want to punch a hole in a wall.

"Arthur doesn't exist." I glared.

"Ah, feisty as ever Alice. Nice plastics," he gabbed a thumb over to my _breasts_. God, the word sounded disgusting even in my brain. "Don't understand why guys aren't pissing themselves to be with you."

Feliks walked in, and I used that as an excuse to end the conversation.

"Hey, girl! What's up?" I think I even did that sassy thing that girls do with their neck. Elizaveta would have a _field day_ with this.

"Fuck me softly with a chainsaw, what the _hell_ happened to you?" He gawked. I didn't know what was wrong. The confusion must've shown on my face, because Feliks's twisted into a malicious smirk.

"Seriously, bag your face." He flipped his hair and the sun caught it, making it gleam and shimmer. He looked _perfect_, and I suddenly understood all those cheesy high school movies about popular kids. They really were that great.

Dejectedly, I walked back to my seat.

"Don't say anything." I murmured with a slight glare.

Peter smiled, "I wasn't planning on it."

I didn't see my boss until lunch, and the day wasn't going too badly up until then. Sure, seeing Peter laughing and flirting with teenage girls made me want to claw my eyes out but that was only a minor setback in the life of a high schooler.

"Alice, I see you wear pretty clothes today. Make friends, da?" The sound of that cheery voice unnerved me.

"Uhm, just trying to fit in." I let out a chuckle. Even to me, my voice sounded nervous and fake.

"Brother..." A low growl came from the popular table, and for a moment I thought Peter had finally hit puberty.

But the look of unadulterated fear that sparked on Mr. Braginski's face told me otherwise.

"Oh shit, it's my little sister." He looked at me for help. I looked back and suppressed my laughter.

"Brother. Marry me. Marry me, brother." She was closer now, and all the background noise turned off. I could only hear her voice, feel her breath tickle the back of my neck. Smell her lips gloss, her hairspray, her desperation. I shivered; no wonder he was scared shitless of her.

"Brother.." Then, the strong, fearless, sinister Ivan bolted out of the cafeteria like an agoraphobe in New York City, near tears, shaking.

Natasha was relentless. She followed close behind. I decided not to pursue the incestuous pair of siblings and walked over to Peter's table.

Which was also the cool table.

Cue the huge, comical gulp. "Hey guys."

"My gosh, it's this groddy senior, she's like, stalking us," Feliks smirked at me, before turning back to my brother and explaining further.

"She's the biggest dork I think I've ever seen. In my life. Like, ever."

"Bit redundant, huh Barbie?" I shot daggers, then smoothed my features into a smile, waiting for a response.

"Aw, dudes, I know her. She went to my old school, coolest chick around. She's a shit cook, and has a fuck attitude, but she's been around the bases if ya' know what I mean," He casted me a long, slow wink and the table burst out into raucous laughter. I straightened my glasses and attempt a friendly face.

"You might not be so bad, Alice, sit down."

Seconds later, the frog was all over me, but that was okay, because I was fitting in- even if it was all a lie.

That day, Mattie sat alone at our usual table. I didn't notice.

* * *

><p>English class was breezy, now. The minutes passed in notes about how cute Mr. Jones's ass was, and I was thinking about how my story on high school students was going to be stellar.<p>

**College party, deets l8r**

Feliks slid the note under the table, and I read and reread it with much relish. Yes, parties. And me, invited. It was too good to be true.

**Better then the party at the Court ;P**

Me using emoticons?

Incorrect grammar?  
>Complete lack of appropriate punctuation?<p>

Distressing, I know.

But some part of it was fun. As if I was playing a game. As if each laugh, rumour, and rude, hurtful joke was just a game and I had to be a player.

This wasn't really a choice, but it was the only option. If I had my way I'd be sitting with Mattie, studying Trigonometry and belting out Queen songs like some deranged lunatic, not in English class laughing at an imitation of our hefty Geography teacher.

It didn't kill me when I got a letter from the Numerators that due to missing too many practices, I was kicked off the team.

It didn't kill me when I ran into Mattie in the bathroom, and her eyes were red and it looked like she had just finished a nice, long cry. I just stayed silent and finished re-glossing my lips.

It didn't kill me when I got an F on my Biology test because I didn't study, but instead spent the night sitting on a couch letting Francis shamelessly flirt with me.

No, it didn't kill because it was my job. It was my duty.

I never for a second thought about how much of a shock it was going to be when I told them that, _no, pinky promise, I'm actually a twenty something year old man_.

**Way better xD**

Feliks nudged me, and I decided I would go.

The bell rang, and I quickly copied the homework from the board, before Mr. Jones - no, Alfred - asked me to stay behind for a sec.

"Sure thing," Then I winked towards Feliks because we had decided that our teacher was most certainly a pedo because he looked at me a lot, and complimented girls way too often.

"I've noticed a change in you," he started, and I realised it wasn't a good thing, what he was about to say.

No, it was going to be harsh, and long, and boring, and absolutely, utterly _useless_. I am not a teenager. I was older than him. Smarter than him.

"Go on. I have other classes, you know."

"Well, your grades are dropping, and unless you do something about it, I will have to contact your parents."

"Good luck with that." I smiled grimly.

He looked confused, a bit taken aback.

"They're dead. Got eaten. By a cannibal."

For a second, I could tell he didn't believe me. But I shrugged, grabbed my books and walked away.

It didn't kill me when Alfred looked at me with tired, disappointed eyes. It didn't.

* * *

><p>The party was better than I had imagined. I hardly knew anyone, but most of the guys were old enough that if I woke up next them naked I wouldn't scream, "Bollocks!" and call the police on myself.<p>

There was one thing I didn't look out for. One thing that could undermine my whole plan in seconds.

Alcohol.

Not saying I'm some light weight wimp. No, I could knock back a few with the best of them.

Just... I let out some embarrassing behaviour while under the influence.

I didn't drink any at first, no. I just danced, and flirted.

"Hey there gorgeous," A deep voice startled me.

I turned around and was face to face with Mr. Jones.

"Well, that was disappointing," Sighing, I started to walk away.

"Ali? What are you doing here? My gosh! Bad guys are here! And your outfit! _Sweet mother of Jesus_! Do you want to be drugged and raped?" He freaked out, grabbed my hand and pulled me to a corner.

"Well, it's not rape if you like it," I gave him a wink. I was watching him squirm, enjoying the power this position gave me.

"This is bad...God. Man, I'll take you home? Okay?" His grip on me tightened, but I managed to remain immovable.

"No, in fact, it is _not_ okay. Unhand me you fiend!" Maybe that was a bit dramatic, and a bit dorky. But when it's all said and done, that's who I am.

"Hush you'll attract the wrong peo-"

He was stopped by a hand on his chest. Ludwig, from the office. God, were all my colleagues here?

"Is he messing _v_ith you?" Hard, cold blue eyes looked at me, expecting an answer.

"No, he's fine. Don't worry about it. I have my big girl panties on tonight." That wasn't a euphemism for anything. In fact, I was wearing Union Jack boxers under my sheer, black dress.

He moved his hand away from Alfred's chest, and I could hear my teacher struggle with his breathing.

"Oh, God… He was so..._big_."

_That's what she said_. Some perverse, disturbing voice in my head giggled.

God, I was becoming immature. Perverted.

I've never even kissed someone, for christsakes! My eyebrows (which grew back rather hastily) practically screamed 'virgin'!

"Look, let us just sit down, then, if you're charming enough, I'll let you drive me home." It was risky, I knew. But I liked talking to him, and to be frank, I wasn't much for loud and obnoxious and that was where the party was heading.

"Ali, you worry and amaze me." He huffed out a laugh, looking nervous and shy.

"Good," and then I was dragging him to a table.

"A shot of something heavy," I declared upon arrival. The bartender just nodded and did as told.

"This is illegal. This is wrong. This is bad. This is-" Alfred fought his inner sense of justice.

"Same for him," I told the man once he returned with my drink.

I gulped it down in a second. I missed the way it burnt my throat and painted everything soft and hazy like memories of Saturday morning cartoons and the first time I read Hamlet.

Another drink appeared before me, and I finished it in one go as well.

"Whoa, slow down there, kiddo." Alfred's voice surrounded me. Why was it so loud?

"You'vegotwarmhands," I breathed.

"Heh, uh, thanks." I left like I was being lifted. Carried away.

" 'Snowproblem." Another drink, barely conscious.

Yes, I was certainly being pulled away.

"Hey, where are you taking her?" Alfred, talking.

"I am taking her back to my place. She's not with you, non?" Horrible, horrible voice.

" Lettme go." I pushed him away. Ah, it was like a breath of fresh air. Things were a bit blurry still, but I could hear a thump and I knew what I wanted to do.

Dance.

Pushing, shoving, finding the source of the music. Ah, there I was. Centre stage.

I think I started with some classic, loveable moves.  
>The sprinkler.<br>The funky monkey.

The thing were you grab your ankle and practically dry hump the fuck out of the room.

Yes, I was the white Carlton Banks. I was the Dancing King.

"You suck!" I heard someone shouting.

"Thanks a bunch, arsehole!" I called back.

Nothing was going to ruin this. I felt like some god. Immortal and huge.

"Ma'am, you have to get of the stage, to let the next band come on," Oh, okay. I could do that.

"Onemoredance, please?" I begged, then smiled. He cringed, then looked lower and conceded.

I even tried out some moves reserved for just my bedroom. The one where you snapped your fingers and spun.  
>I ended the drum solo with jazz hands and then walked off.<p>

The lovely sound of applause was perpetual.

Nice, big hands whisked me away. I pretended that it was my Prince Charming and that he was going to kiss me and love me forever.

"Party is over, little missy." No, it was only Alfred.

"One more dance? Dance with me?" It wasn't really a question, because I tugged him closer to me, almost like a hug.

Had I ever been this close to such a cute guy?  
>No.<p>

I was too drunk to be nervous.

I spun us both around, and around. Not caring that it was a fast, metal band. A slow song was playing in my mind.

He didn't try to pull away, nor did he attempt anything funny. No grinding, no sloppy kisses. Just tense movements as if I was a fancy doll kept in the corner. The one you weren't allowed to touch.

"I'm not a doll, you won't break me," I whispered into his ear. My breath was hot, and smelt like booze.

He just gulped, and I realised he was a gentlemen, too.

"You could be my Prince Charming," I told him because that was what my brain was thinking.

Then I barfed on his shoes because that was what my body was telling me.

He drove me home and I woke up tucked into a blanket on my couch.

* * *

><p>"Will I ever hear the end of this?"<p>

"Nope... but you can rewatch the tape with me." Elizaveta urged.

I was at her home, which looked like suburbia threw up into a two bedroom apartment.

Did I forget I was being recorded? Did I forget that I actually told my bloody _teacher _he was possibly the one for me? And then barf on his shoes?

I had skipped the next day of school, reasonably. Equal parts hungover and embarrassed.

Thankfully, she called the school so I could complete the missed work and not fall dreadfully behind.

"I am a despicable human being and I deserve to be shot. I am dumb, and lame, and ugly-"

"Arthur, chill." She paused and the screen captured a lovely shot of Alfred's face twisted in horror as orange puke spewed from an unseen person.

Me.

"You're an awesome dancer, though." She smirked and resumed watching.

"And you, my dear, are a bitch." I rolled over on her bed and closed my eyes.

"Guess what I did..." Her voice was quiet, very vulnerable.

I decided to humour her with fake interest.

"What hath thou accomplished, great of importance or irrelevant and lilliputian?"

"I asked Roderich out."

"Bloody hell! Eli! You can't break his heart!" Startled, I sat up, forcing her to look at me.

"I know... I don't want to, either." Then she smiled. "He has pretty eyes."

"You...are unbelievable." I stared at her, incredulous. But I knew that he had loved her since forever, and that if she was willing, they'd be perfect for each other.

"That's why you love me," And she pushed me back down onto her bed and I watched myself act dumb without even cringing once.

**Sorry for the delay. The humour seemed iffy in this chapter to me... so let me know if it sucked or something and I'll keep working on it.**

**I'd like to sincerly thank everyone who reviewed because it really means a lot. And thanks to all the favourites and alerts as well. Another thanks to my awesome beta RamenNoodlesXD**

**Next chapter: Sadie Hawkins Dance... I couldn't resist... :3**

**~HarponMoo**


	7. Part Seven

**I would like to say I am truly sorry about how slow this is being updated... it just takes time to get it beta'd, almost as long as it took writing this. So please take this extremely long, goofy chapter as an apology. I'd like to thank all my reviewers, alerters, and favouriters. It means so much. And a special thanks to my beta RamenNoodlesXD**

**Only three chapters left guys D: **

* * *

><p>Teenagers are a lot like bugs. Some run around and try not to get squashed. Others buzz annoyingly, and it is rare that you find good company in them. That week, though, was horrendous. It was like the whole place was infected, and I was the poor exterminator.<p>

School dances.

School dances.

_God-damn-I-don't-give-a-shit_ school dances.

The theme? Why was that so important? Couldn't you just paint the place pink and call it a day? Apparently not.

I had fallen behind on some homework, and stayed behind to complete some missing assignments. I was willing to do so, therefore that time would not be called 'Detention'. I was glad for that, because they also threatened an out of school suspension. The only thing worse than an out of school suspension is an _in school_ suspension. I was typing up my character analysis paper on the janky computers, when I heard a particularly annoying type of insect.

"I was thinkin', what's more cuter than pink?" See, someone agreed with me.

"Silver?" A timid voice suggested, mistaking the rhetorical question for a real one.

"Puh-lease. Silver? Break my nails and gag me with a spoon. Gross." A hair flip, nice and blond and not giving off anything remotely intellectual.

"Hello Feliks," I called without moving my eyes away from the keyboard.

"Alice! Darling, you totes gotta meet my _man_," I felt hands dragging me away from the computer, so I quickly pressed saved because who really knew how long this would take.

The tall boy standing next to Feliks looked nice, smart, and shy. I was shell-shocked.

"This guy?" If my voice sounded incredulous, I meant no offence.

"Don't diss on my boy, like, he's great." He pulled the brunette into a kiss, and the poor guy's face flashed red. When they broke apart he flashed me an apologetic, sincere smile and left.

"He seems…like a real keeper." I was still trying to get over my shock.

"So, guess who is in the prom committee?" Feliks was jumping now, usually catty green eyes now bright with excitement.

"Erm, you?" I really needed to finish my report...

"That wouldn't be a guess, duh! You have to like, actually guess!"

I walked back over to my computer, and started typing again.

"Alice Kirkland is in the committee! Neato burrito, am I right?" He was standing right by me now. His breath smelt like pure sugar and I resisted the urge to cringe.

_No. Not neat. Not neat at all, arsehole._

"Whoa, that's _so_ awesome, I'm _excited_." I managed a smile even though my words dripped with enough sarcasm to paint a car. A superficial frown, "Mr. Jones is like raggin' on me to finish some dumb paper, you better go before he gets back."

"Totes, see ya later!" Feliks waved goodbye at me, and walked back, probably looking for his boyfriend.

Oh, but that wasn't it. Nope. In this crack comedy called life, I had another intruder.

"Hey, Arthur, you going to the Sadie Hawkins dance?"

"Who is this Arthur you are speaking of?" I turned around to glare at Peter again for the mistake.

"Sorry, _Alice_." He rolled his eyes, as if he was anything but sorry.

I told him that no, in fact, I would rather stay at home, and that dance wouldn't be graced by my presence this year.

"Dude, you _have_ to go! I'm going! I got asked!" I looked at him up and down, eying his figure.

"What poor, lonely soul would ask you?" He was short, blond, annoying. A bit cute but only because he looked like me.

"His name is Ravis," And then he pulled a really smug looking face and I resisted the urge to chase him away.

"I see several flaws with that statement." I huffed, giving up on actually getting school work done.

"Enlighten me, dear sister," He teased, pulling up a chair and sitting across from me.

"First of all, it is traditional of the Sadie Hawkins dance to have a _female_ ask a male. And second of all, does Ravis know you're a pedophile? How old are you? Not a teenager, I'm bloody sure of that." I was rather pleased with myself, because his smug face fell and he almost looked sad.

I could practically hear Elizaveta screaming at me, I knew she was watching through the camera-button on my shirt.

"Look, Peter, I'm sorry," The words tasted bitter and false in my mouth. "I guess when you play for the other team, the rules change a bit."

"Yeah, guess so. Are you gonna ask Mr. Jones?" He wasn't shy anymore, and his face looked like pure glee. "I-I mean, you always talk, and you're the right age for each other and I guess that if you just shaved your eyebro-"

"Thank you for your input, Peter." I said it in a tone that seemed very final, hoping he'd get the message.

" -ws, then your looks would almost equal to his. Though you are really bitter and he's nice but I bet they have medicine for tha-"

"I said, _thank you_ for your input, _Peter_."

He just kept on going, though; he was like an Energizer bunny, bouncing from topic to topic, and not passing a chance to insult me on the way.

"I mean, maybe you would finally get laid, what are you aiming for? Forty-_five_ year old virgin? Want them to make a movie 'bout you, too?" He laughed at his own poor humour, but it didn't seem like he was going to stop.

It was only November, and I saw the semester stretch before me like a horrible stench. I couldn't take it.

"Shut the fuck up, Peter!"

Just at that moment, Alfred walked in. Now, I know I have bad luck, but this was just too perfect. Really, I'm sure I was pulling a derpy face and looking like a lunatic and the man I was currently obsessing over just had to walk in.

"Alice, principal's office, now." I wanted to sneer at him, I really, really did. Talking to me like that? I wonder whether he would keep it a secret if I told him the truth. And maybe then I wouldn't have been marched to the office like some hoodlum and we'd be snogging in the back of his mini-van.

Of course I kept the fact that I was a grown man to myself.

"Your behaviour has been getting continually worse, I'm sick of it. Where was that sweet, smart girl that I knew in the beginning of school?" We were walking to the office, my face a beet red and his holding an expression of sincere pity. He looked lovely, even with it.

"She was never here," I mumbled to myself, and when he asked me to repeat it, I didn't.

"Now, you'll be in the hands of the principal, and I hope that you'll act decent for him at least." And then he left me there, standing awkwardly in front of the office with some intense urge to wet myself. But gentlemen don't do that, and neither would I.

The door never opened though, and I knocked a few more times before opening it cautiously.

I really, really, wish I hadn't.

"Oh my God!"

There was Ivan.

There was the principal.

And then there was Ivan _becoming one _withthe principal.

"I didn't need to see that, wankers!" I made sure they heard me, and hoped that they would feel ashamed, and then I marched myself back to finish my report that was taking a lot longer than I had expected.

"Mr. Jones, it's not my fault, I swear." I caught him right when he entered the room and declared my innocence.

He rubbed the back of his neck with a strong hand, "Really?"

"Indeed, the leader of this school was copulating with a _student_, and I _didn't_ want to interrupt." Two lies in one sentence? I was getting scary good.

His face turned bright red, and I could only nod emphatically.

"Well, I'll just assign you something..." He started thinking aloud.

I kind of hoped it would just be me and him, something that would be nice and I could show him I honestly wasn't so bad, I just had to be a bitch to write a paper.

"The detentions aren't helping..." He continued.

I printed off the paper, and got up to go wait for it. I really enjoyed the way the paper felt after just coming out of a printer- warm and soft. It was like a blanket with words.

"Would you like to go to dinner?" If I was drinking tea, it'd be on the ground. If I was holding scissors, I would've accidentally stabbed myself.

"W-what?" Thankfully, my face was covered by my false hair, and he couldn't tell that I was blushing and smiling.

"The Numerators are hosting a fundraiser at Spaghetti Warehouse, for your punishment, you'll have to help," Alfred was smirking, rather pleased with himself in a way I found endearing.

I tried to hold down my disappointment, but I only came across bitter, "You can't make me do that, I'd rather talk to the principal."

"Okay, then, go talk to her," He offered me a way out and I knew it, he was testing to see if he pushed too far. I let him relax.

"I'd rather dine with you," And somehow, feeling more powerful with a skirt and smooth legs, I gave him a wink, gathered my stuff, and left.

* * *

><p>Basically, that week was insane. By the time Friday rolled around, I was planning on staying after school to help with the Sadie Hawkins dance, which would occur on the following week. Still, no theme had been picked, and I was nervous about that because it meant I'd have to suggest something. No one ever likes my ideas. I always think they are great, and then I voice them, and get <em>The Look<em>, and feel like an outspoken git. I had a 'date' with Alfred on Saturday and I had been invited to go to the mall with Feliks on Sunday (because being uber religious is overrated).

"Hey, Alice?" At first I thought it was just a voice inside my head, but when I turned around, Mattie was standing there nervously clutching and releasing the extra fabric from her baggy red jacket.

"Yeah?" I saw Feliks approaching from the corner of my eye, and hoped that it was just a quick question because I couldn't be seen being civil to _dorks_ like her.

"I just wanted to say thank you for helping with the fundraiser, it really means a lot," She smiled, and looked so painfully earnest I felt like the Grinch whose heart grew insanely big in an instant.

"Like, what the hell do you want?" Feliks looked at Mattie as if she was a pest, and I assumed when she glared back at him the feeling was mutual.

"Nothing from _you_," She would've sounded rather clever if her voice was louder, but as it was she just seemed shy and unsure.

"Well, it's a punishment, really. I didn't choose to help out..." I offered her a look that spoke volumes, but I think it was in the wrong language because she looked hurt.

"I should've guessed as much."

When she was gone, Feliks smiled brightly, slinging an arm around me and leading me to the lunch line.

"So, I'm finally off my diet, and I was gonna celebrate tonight with Toris takin' me out to dinner, what should I wear? I'm like, totally confused about it! Pink and green- cuz it makes my eyes pop or pink-" I tuned him out after that, and scanned over the lunch room. Tables seemed organised by cliques, that much was obvious. If life was a movie, I'd somehow change that, and then everyone would be friends, and Mattie wouldn't cower in fear whenever Natasha and crew came along. But life wasn't a movie. I mean, if it was then I certainly needed to be recasted.

I wondered what Elizaveta thought about my situation. It was becoming painfully obvious that I was an arsehole to Mattie, and that Feliks was a dipshit, and the Alfred was... well, he was horrible.

"Dude, you've been spacing out for like a year! What's up?" I felt a trimmed finger poke my cheek and resisted the urge to bite it.

"Just thinking." _You should try it_.

"You know what I've been thinkin' about?" Feliks asked, drumming his nails on the table with a bored look. I was actually shocked he was capable of such a thing, but I kept that part to myself and just quirked an eyebrow in half-interest.

"When you're going to ask Francis to the dance," His voice was painfully casual and I was completely unnerved. Just the thought of me having to dance with that idiotic frog made my stomach hurt.

"What the hell?"

"You guys are like, totes in love, it is obvious," He leaned in across the table, smiling perversely, "I'm surprised you haven't fu-"

"Hey, Peter!" For once I was excited to see him, and grinned as he interrupted Feliks and went on to talk about a new action movie that had less of a plot than Twilight.

"Have you seen Ivan?" A question aimed at me snapped me out of my dreamlike state.

"That barf bag? You guys are his friends?" The clueless blond look scandalised, and his green eyes flashed with confusion.

I gave Peter a look, telling him to actually think before he spoke, and somehow he wriggled out of Feliks' accusation. The conversation turned light and pleasant and I went back to ignoring it.

The day was too long, and by the time my last period ended, all I wanted was a nap and to get out of the uncomfortable wig. That, of course, didn't happen.

My hand was captured in Feliks' and I was dragged to the commons where the dance committee would meet.

"I'm like, so, totally excited! I have like, a million bitchin' ideas," I was suffocating for air, and took deep breaths once he released my hand in order to hug his boyfriend. I wasn't jealous. Jealousy would imply be wanting a boyfriend, and haven't I already indicated I was perfectly fine being alone?

I glanced around the room, not many people were there, and that surprised me a bit. I mean, the way everyone freaked out about the dance, you'd assume they would want to have a part in it. I guess I was over-estimating the helpfulness of teenagers. However, Francis was there, and heading for the seat right next to me.

I pretended I hadn't seen him, and stretched my legs onto the empty chair adjacent to me, smirking a bit.

Well, until my smirk was wiped off in one quick motion that resulted in my legs in Francis' lap and his hands rubbing my heels lovingly.

My face flushed, and I snatched my legs away quickly before he got the idea that I actually was enjoying it. I gave him a glare and that was all.

"Anyone have ideas? Please speak now," A young looking guy with glasses sat at the front of the room, pleading with the small crowd, waiting for responses.

"I ha'z an idea," I heard a horrible French voice speak up next to me, and slowly turned to look at him, as did everyone else.

"How about an ABC party?" He smiled and even though I didn't know what it stood for, I would fight hard for it not to be the theme of any school event.

"ABC? Alphabet party. A bit childish even for you," I couldn't help but sneer at his stupidity.

"Non, an _A_nything _B_ut _C_lothes party," He leant down to give me a wink, and I felt something acidic rise to my throat.

"Thank you for that... any other ideas?" The man up front begged, running a hand through his sandy hair, obviously displeased with the perverted Frenchman.

"How about a more _romantic_ theme?" My own mouth was open, the words were flowing out... I didn't know how to stop it, "Maybe classic couples, or something like that?" I put a hand over my mouth once I was down spewing my word vomit, expecting snickers.

Only, that didn't happen. People seemed to like the idea. Dangerous pride swelled up in the pit of my stomach.

I liked the feeling and I hadn't felt it for a long time.

I exchanged numbers with the rest of the committee, pleased to fill up some space on my hardly used cellular device.

Leaving with a smile, I allowed Feliks to drive me home.

* * *

><p>I am only telling you this because I will probably never meet you. I will never catch your amused gaze nor be affected by your poor decisions. So, I will admit that on Saturday, I awoke with a strange jittery feeling and a small smile. I stress that part.<p>

Small.

Infinitesimal.

"Good morning, sunshine," I jumped at that sound, falling off of my bed and hitting my floor with a thud.

"Eli! You need to stop breaking into my house," Her green eyes glistened innocently as I sat back up and smoothed out my bed sheets.

"It's not breaking in if you have a key."

I grumbled insults but settled with demanding, "You're making breakfast."

That only made her grin more.

"Have you decided what you're going to wear for your _date_?" I could tell she was teasing. Her voice was so light and airy, and my face turned pink instantly.

"It's not a date, it is simply a fundraiser." We both knew it was a bit more than that.

"I saw his eyes, he is like... in love with you!" Oh, again with the teasing.

"That's great, I want eggs and toast." I led her into the kitchen before she pushed me out of it, insisting on pampering me that day.

"I'll even curl your fake hair, that'd be so cute! I mean, are pig tails the only hairstyle you can manage?" I could hear the smile from her words, even if I wasn't allowed in the kitchen to see the actual one.

"Thank you for your offer, I will take you up on it." It was silent for a bit, only broken by her familiar rummaging through my pantry and cabinets.

"Arthur, all you have is Activia and hard candies."

Confused, I replied, "Am I really out of Twinings?"

"That's it, I'm getting you laid tonight," Linking our arms like school children, I was dragged upstairs and forced into my wig and a dress.

"Speaking of making love, where do you want to go for breakfast?" I asked while washing my face, ashamed to be using the anti-wrinkling cream.

"That has nothing to do with any- never mind," She smiled deviously, "It's a surprise."

And that is how I found myself being dragged to the mall while nearly dying of starvation.

"You're a bitch," I was not pleased.

"Love you too, Alice" She was used to my moods. I didn't know whether to be happy or angry. I settled for embarrassing her.

"How is it going with Roderich?"

For once, her face was the red one.

"Oh, I _see_. I see, quite clearly," I couldn't help but let hints of innuendo slip into my voice.

"Hey, Alice, do you think that Alfred is a jeans or skirt guy?" We walked into a bright, colourful store. I was surprised at all of the quirky combinations the mannequins wore.

"Well, that hardly concerns me."

"Hm, you have nice legs, you can rock skinny jeans." Elizaveta dashed off, leaving me to twiddle my thumbs and leaf through suggestive t-shirts. Upon finding one I liked, I went to locate my friend. If left to her own devices, she could spend her entire life in a store.

"Alice, you have to try these on," She pushed a pair of dark wash trousers into my hand and guided me quickly to a changing stall.

"I don't think these will fit, they seem rather small," I called out, knowing she was leaning on the door.

"That's the point," I saw my handle turn and realised Elizaveta was letting herself in.

"I'm indecent!" I squeaked, covering my parts before she could see.

"Hun," Reassurance washed over me in waves as she placed a hand on my shoulder, "I've watched gay porn. I've seen it all before."

"You're absolutely rotten," I smiled.

"You know you're perverted, too." She smiled back.

That still didn't help the fact that those pants squeezed the life out of me and took half an hour to remove. Which, Eli decided to help with as well.

"Can I please, please, get a bigger size? What was that, anyway?"

"Double zero, I guess we can go with twos."

"It amazes me how girls torture themselves. Eyebrows, painful clothing, drawing on their faces, I haven't realised this all before," With a sigh, I sat down in nothing but my boxers, feeling the cool tiles of the dressing room floor welcome me. Turning my head slightly, I was greeted by a mirror. It was only slightly disappointing.

Dark circles around my eyes, humungous eyebrows, a small snub nose, dreadfully sharp cheek bones, childish freckles-

"Alice, stop criticising yourself." My friend had reappeared with slightly larger jeans.

"I was doing no such thing," I huffed, stubbornly ignoring her _I-know-you-know-stop-being-so-bloody-thick_ look.

"You are beautiful, I promise," The sincerity of that sentence was ruined by her forcing me into the killer trousers.

"Well," I gave in, glancing into the mirror again, "they do make my arse look nice."

So I bought them, and the red and cream striped sweater with a loopy blue bow stitched near the neck. Elizaveta curled my wig hair, and even convinced me to wear makeup.

I had to draw the line of masculinity at Strawberry Sherbet Lollipop lip gloss. What kind of dimwit came up with a name like that? I honestly believed the wanker just threw around feminine sounding words. Eli assured me it made your lips kissable and soft.

I didn't need it.

"Look at the time! Better get going-" Somehow she had _me_ leaving _my_ own house in a hurry.

"Don't forget to smile!" She called out as I dashed towards the subway.

* * *

><p>The Spaghetti Warehouse was full, and upon arrival they told me that twenty percent of the money they made that night from all participants would be donated to Hetalia Academy's 'lovely, intelligent', and broke Numerators.<p>

"Sounds nice, table for one please?" I wondered why I had even dressed up, Alfred was probably chatting up some grown up lady with boobs and normal eyebrows. Who probably smiled a lot and was flirty and funny and actually kind and-

"Hey, Ali, join my table!" Oh, no, he was alone, waiting... for me?

"Right this way, Miss," A waiter escorted me to Alfred's table, pausing patiently while I told him my specific order for tea, then dashing off to do his duty.

"Wow, you look awesome!" His voice was breathy, and I felt delighted. Flattered, even.

"You look dashing yourself." I knew he saw my blush, but he didn't mention it.

"Thanks for coming," said Alfred, his tone a tad sheepish. "Sorry for giving you such a hard time in school, I was concerned about your attitude." He seemed genuine enough, but why did his words leave me sad?

"Yes, well, there is no need for that. Peter, the man I yelled at, is my brother. Things happen." I brushed off his gaze and studied the menu.

"Things happen…" He repeated, looking over his menu but then closing it with an energetic slap only he would be capable of.

"Man, I love this place! I used to come here all the time! The food is da bomb," Grabbing his glass of soda he slurped up the sugary liquid.

"Used to?" I wasn't particularly curious, just trying to avoid an awkward silence.

"Yeah, my boyfriend loved it, then he went all 'vegetarian' I mean, what the hell? What is better than a big plate o' balls?" He coughed, realising his mistake and corrected himself, "Meatballs."

I still wasn't okay.

_Boyfriend_.

The word took over my mind, latching onto every secure thought I once had. Should I be glad he was gay, at least? Should I be sad he was taken? Why did I care? He obviously wasn't the one for me. He obviously won't give me a chance. Did I even want a chance?

I laughed politely, fiddling with a strand of blonde hair.

"I'm sure he had his reasons for it," Why was I asking this? Why did I suddenly want to know everything about Alfred's boyfriend?

"Yeah, it was surprising though, I mean, he loves food," Alfred eyes weren't as light as they once were, and I refrained from asking why.

Just kidding, "Are you guys having problems?"

"Yeah, you could say that," He looked up at me, and for a moment I thought he was about to tell me everything, "Hey, I heard you were on the dance committee. That means you're going, right?"

"It doesn't mean anything," I felt strangely warm. Was it the dim lights? Was it the way the table was made for only a couple?

"Are you going to ask anyone?" His fingers picked at the lamination on the menu, his eyes looking anywhere but mine.

"You have a boyfriend," Why did I say that?

He looked at me, "Yeah." That spoke volumes.

The waiter came back to take our order, and handed me my tea.

"I'll get two Spaghetti Dinners with extra meatballs, garlic bread, Seven Layer lasagna, chicken ravioli, and those noodles that are like circles with the beef and white cheese in 'em," The poor guy was struggling to write it all down, amazed at how fast Alfred's mouth could move.

I stared at my English teacher with something akin to awe and embarrassment, "You didn't have to order for me."

It was his turn to flash red, "Er, I didn't, I mean..."

"So you ordered all that yourself?"

"Uh-huh, this is eating for a good cause. I'm not being a fat-ass, I'm being charitable." He grinned, and I laughed at how earnest he was. So bloody earnest.

"Sir?" I caught the waiter's attention, "I'll have the Italian Wedding Soup and a breadstick." He waited to see if I would say more, after being scared by Alfred, but that was all and he left moments into an awkward silence.

"You're bloody ridiculous," I hissed once our order had been placed.

"Maybe, but I'm also hungry."

"I don't know how you manage to _not_ weigh at least 30 stones!"

"I think I weigh as much as like, fifty rocks, dude." Alfred completely missed the point but I didn't say anything, just stared at his head and wondered what was in there since he was clearly missing a brain.

"So, how are you liking Amurhica?"

"It sucks." I replied drily, sipping my tea.

"No way! It's the best place on Earth! Each morning starts out with the smell of justice and freedom in the air-"

I interrupted him with a flat stare, "I live in Manhattan, the only things I smell are sewage and piss."

"-heroes and noble leaders swarm the cities, caring for their citizens-"

"Alfred, the government nearly shut down thrice this year."

"-kindness and tolerance lay in heavy abundance, a surplus of understanding-"

"Forty-one states still prohibit gay marriage."

Our food came, taking Alfred's attention off of America the 'Great' and onto Pasta the Delicious. But that only lasted for a second.

"Maybe you just need a good tour guide, I'll show you around some places sometime," He made it sound friendly but I felt like I was being asked to another date. My imagination was turning to mush.

"Well, give me your number, I'll think about it." I took out my phone and carefully typed in the numbers as he dictated, saving it under Alfred, much to his displeasure.

"Call me Alfie, Alfie and Ali sound so kickass together!"

"I'd rather not, Alfred." He simply pouted like a child, and I resisted the urge to reprimand him.

"You know, you may be younger than me," He leaned across the table and poked my chest right were my heart was, "But you have an old soul, Grandma."

I narrowed my eyes teasingly, "Well, at least I'm not so bloody childish."

He mocked my voice, making it octaves higher and donning a horrible British accent that he must've spent less than a second thinking about because I was almost insulted, " 'Least I'm not so _bloody_ childish, yeah right."

"Alfred, you have just proven my point."

He didn't say anything for a while, but I could tell his mental gears were working hard.

"Holy shit! You distracted me from food!" He began to wolf it down the moment he realised this, but I couldn't help feeling a little special.

I turned to my soup, finding it cold but still savoury. I placed a spoonful in my mouth thoughtfully, wondering what I was going to do with my situation about Alfred. I knew I liked him, sort of. And I knew he was gay. But all he 'knew' was that I was jailbait and female. Yet he still flirted with me…I wonder if he would give me a chance once the truth came out. It didn't seem like his relationship was working anyway.

"God, that was incredible." Sighing, he patted his stomach, which protruded comically.

"You are completely one of a kind," I murmured under my breath. He heard it, though, and winked.

The waiter was back, "Dessert?"

"Oh heavens no."

"You knows it!"

"Alfred, you've eaten quite enough already, and it would be _know_ not _knows_." I scolded, feeling like a parent, but still, he didn't need more food.

"Ali," He whined, "it's for a good cause."

_Deep breaths, Kirkland._

"Fine, Gramms, we'll compromise." He turned to the waiter and declared, "We'll share a chocolate cake, and can I have a tall glass o' milk?"

The waiter raised an eyebrow, but complied.

"Sharing?" I winced; that was too romantic. Too dreamy.

"Do you know how to share?" He quipped.

"Obviously, I do have three elder brothers, and then my younger one."

"Dang, does it suck being the only girl?" I hadn't seen this side of Alfred much, the sympathetic side.

"No, there was still mother," I could at least say that part honestly. I was ridiculed for my slightly feminine traits, "They'd also tease me about being gay though."

Alfred stared, and I realised my mistake. Sure, a girl could be gay, but I wasn't a girl... oh dear.

"So…you like girls?" He looked around for his drink as a distraction, but only tiny ice cubes were left. He crunched a few with his white, white teeth.

"Oh, uhm, no. I like boys, _men_."

He finished crunching his ice.

"Dear lord, this is embarrassing."

"Don't worry, Ali. Not like I could be a homophobe." True, but that wasn't really the point.

Thankfully, dessert saved me from answering.

It truly looked wonderful. Three layers of moist chocolate cake, drizzled with a chocolate sauce, and enriched by chocolate chips. Alfred's glass of creamy cold milk looked perfect and I was jealous.

"We can share this too, if you want," He must have noticed me looking at his milk. _Look away, Arthur,_ I instructed myself futilely.

"Thanks," I was red up to my ears.

"Well, screw beating around the bush, this looks like heaven, so..." He eagerly picked up a fork.

"Ladies first," I smirked and cut off his fork from the piece of cake with a swift manoeuvre of my own utensil. I dug my spoon into a chunk of the cake and lifted it up, towards my mouth, only to be intercepted by Alfred's fork. He stole the delicious morsel right out of my spoon.

"But that was hardly lady-like." He countered. It was headed right towards his mouth, and I couldn't think of anything witty to say, so I leant across the table and hit his wrist so the fork went flying elsewhere.

He snatched the spoon out of my hand and tried again, but I hit his wrist again and growled, "I want the first bite, god-damnit."

Alfred stuck his hand into the cake, smiling as he separated a small piece, "Okay then." And he smeared it across my cheek. Like a desperate dog, my tongue darted out to try to get a lick, but it wasn't close enough.

I dipped my fingers in, completely ruining the elegant design and forgetting about my manners, and wiped a stream of chocolate sauce across his chin.

"Oh, it's on." And he dug his hand into the mess of carbs and sugar with a smirk.

Several minutes later, we were laughing into the night air, after arguing about who would pay and being escorted out of the restaurant.

"Your face is a mess," He stopped suddenly, right before the corner of where my apartment was. Walking with him wasn't so bad, his voice and conversation distracted me enough to walk home instead of taking the subway.

"You shouldn't talk." I mumbled, thinking I was being insulted.

"I still never got to try the cake," He was so close that his breathing made my bangs flutter. Could he hear my heart beat?

"Too bad," His eyes bore into mine. Would I finally get my first kiss? How would it feel? Would it taste as sweet as the chocolate on my lips? Could he hear my heart beat?

"Yeah," He leaned in and...

and..

gave me a hug.

He gave me a friendly hug, the kind you would give a cousin, and then he told me goodnight and left.

Could he hear my heart beat?

* * *

><p>Sunday morning came way too early, and the first thing I did was call and cancel on Feliks. I was in no mood to shop. I was in an <em>Arthur<em> mood and couldn't deal to feign Alice-like politeness. Which was saying something, because Alice had become a complete bitch.

I dusted, ran the hoover, and went to the grocery store. After putting away the food, I showered and turned on the telly. Nothing of interest was on, so I finished my homework.

Still, my mind needed more distraction.

I visited the library, checking out a stack of books. After finishing three, I was nearly in tears.

Distraction...

I knitted a sweater.

I changed my water filter.

I folded laundry.

I ordered a chick flick. That part was good, at least. It ended happily and Hugh Grant was a dreamboat, one that I would like to set sail on if you know what I mean.

Dear lord, I really did need a distraction.

I wondered how my work friends were. I could call them. I whipped out my phone, but then realised I didn't _have_ any work friends, besides Elizaveta, and if I talked to her, she'd ask what happened last night. And then I would have to tell her, and then she would come over, and pat my back and we'd drink wine. Then I would be obliged to ask her how her night was, and she'd tell me how in love she and 'Roddy' were, and I'd have to listen and try not to feel lonely and old.

I couldn't handle that at the moment.

Suddenly, I knew what to do. I took my phone out and scrolled through my contacts. I bet this person would be surprised I called, I had gotten his number rather recently, and it wouldn't be like me to call.

He answered on the third ring, and before he could say hello I spoke, picturing his blue eyes widening in surprise.

"Would you like to go the the dance with me?"

**Dun dun daaa~ Who do you think he asked? Francis, Alfred, or some other random character? **


	8. Part Eight

Douchebag author returns with excuses!

**a)** my beta died. _okaymaybeshedidn't*die* _but she stopped responding... I think my grammatical errors scared her away so _THANK YOU SO MUCH _**SKADIYOKO**_ FOR BEING SO AWESOME_

**b)** I went on some tackyass spring break trip to Missouri (not offence to people who live there :s)

**c)** I got a B and was then forced to take every type of academic help possible. "You don't get into Harvard with B's"

**d)** I got an amazing partner I now spend all my time with... I'm just bullshitting that one... *forever alone sniffle*

I combined two chapters into one, because it was much too short for my standards... so there is one chapter left and I'm done with it, I just need to get it beta'd WAHOOO... (okay, I'm mostly done with it. I've typed the beginning. And the end.)

* * *

><p>A phone call woke me up too early on Monday morning. My voice was groggy and confused as I answered, "'Elwo?"<p>

"Arthur? Arthur!" It was Elizaveta, her voice desperate.

"Were you expecting someone else?" I rolled over in my bed, my face getting smushed against the pillows.

"I-I had a horrible nightmare-" I let out a groan, but she continued frantically. I was only half listening at that point, "your face was getting covered... completely dark, hairy...out of control..."

"You had a dream that my eyebrows ate my face?" I grumbled into the phone, not even awake enough to pretend to be shocked.

"Well, when you say it like that..." she trailed off. I just hung up, catching a glance of the time on my phone.

**5:20**

God damn, no point in going back to bed.

As I stretched out of bed, I ran through a to-do list of my day. Really, I needed to get started with my paper. I was starting to get close to Feliks, Lovino, and Natasha, and I knew if I looked at it from the right angle, a perfect story would appear.

It just hadn't yet.

Then there was the dance, which I still needed to buy an outfit for. I didn't know why I asked him. In retrospect, it was the worst idea I had thought of in at least a month.

The words simply... flew so easily out of my mouth. I was so bored, and lonely. It would help with the story, or at least I could pretend it would.

I showered, enjoying the time to just think my own thoughts. I hadn't been Arthur in a while. Alice was really starting to gnaw on my emotions, the way she was so moody. Sure, it was always me, but the perspective she viewed things from was a looking glass I hadn't ever glanced at.

When the water turned cold I felt chilly and poor. I stepped out of the bathroom, changing into cargo pants and a button down shirt. It was a gender neutral outfit, and that pleased me. The wig, though, was something strange. As I placed it on my head, it frizzled up, looking fake and unreal in an area. I tried to smooth it down, but my hands were still wet from my shower.

Soon the top of my wig was a mess, and I had no clue as to a solution.

Bad hair day? For sure.

I ran over to my computer, but it was still a dial-up and it would take far too long for me to find the necessary advice and execute it in time. So I slipped on a hat, styled with inspiration from my old friend Holmes, and ran downstairs to whip up a quick breakfast.

Contrary to what others believe, I am an excellent cook. My scones are to die for, and don't get me started on my traditional British recipes. After a filling meal, I left the house early enough to walk to school.

It was nice, being in the morning air. The birds' chirps were fading, and leaves fell to the ground with sudden gusts of wind. City traffic buzzed around me like always, but I found some peace in the commotion. Well, until I felt a tap on my shoulder. Then I just felt tense.

"Heyo, Ali!"

Good God, it was Alfred.

"Yes, Mr. Jones?" I strained the mister, maybe because I was still upset over what had happened this weekend.

"I didn't know you walked, totally cool! I do it too, it's good for the environment, so I'm like a total hipster- ahaha." He laughed nervously at the end, and I squinted my eyes to study him further. First of all, his shirt wasn't buttoned properly, a dab of toothpaste still resided around his lips, dark circles surrounded his eyes, and his hair was more dishevelled than usual- though that wayward piece still stuck up proudly.

"You're having a fight with your boyfriend. He took the car." I still squinted at him, though now it was more of a glare. Damn, this hat was giving me magical deductive powers.

He tried to laugh it off, but we both knew I had caught him. We didn't get mushy over it or anything, he just started talking again. To me it was like walking in silence.

"Guess who is chaperoning the dance?" That caught my attention, though.

"Hm? You are?" I tried to act like I wasn't interested, but that didn't really work.

"Yep! So now you have to go! It'll be all boring if you don't." In a teasing manner he puffed out his lip, and I simply shoved him away with a firm hand.

"For your information, I'm already going. I have a date. Please sell your personal advertisement to someone else." Huffing, I walked the final few steps to school myself, wondering how I would tell Feliks I had taken him up on his advice.

"Dude, you say add-vert-tease-mint like a beast!" Alfred looked at me in awe as I dashed towards my locker.

* * *

><p>"Hey girl, what's on your mind?" Feliks roused me out of my daydream with a question. I gave him a blank look, not exactly sure how to tell him.<p>

"Do you think," I swallowed, then tried again, "Do you think that I could go shopping with you? I need a dress for the dance."

"You're going to the dance? Bitchin'! With who?" Feliks' eyes grew ten times wider, watching my face brighten to a horrible pink colour.

"Er, well, you know, a guy," I mumbled, tugging on the corners of my hat.

"What's his name?" he took a step closer. "Don't make me, like, tickle it out of you."

I should have listened to the warning, but in all honesty the fact that he was serious never occurred to me until I felt firm little digits wiggling up my sides. My sides.

My. Sides.

Right where the fake padding to make me appear more feminine hung. I jerked away, slapping his hand in the process.

"You're a pervert, you know that?"

Feliks shrugged, furrowing his eyebrows together, "Let's go to the mall."

"I don't know if this has crossed your mind, but we're in school right now." I blinked back a dumbfounded look in my eyes and waited for him so we could walk to homeroom together. Lukasiewicz and Kirkland along with Feliks' boyfriend, Lorinaitis, all fit into the same pre-period class.

"Nah, I mostly like my idea." Grabbing his hot pink bag he started towards the door, only pausing to roll his eyes once he realised I wasn't following him.

"Come on, we don't have, like, all day!"

I sighed, watching my body move of its own accord.

The walk to the mall wasn't so bad, because really it was just a walk to Feliks' car. Even in the ever-crowded Manhattan streets, we found a place to park near a vintage dress store.

"So," Feliks turned his gaze on me after he had finished touching up some stray pieces of hair, "what couple are you guys going as?"

"It's incredibly cheesy," I felt my cheeks flush, not wanting to say it out loud.

"Hey, well I think Barbie and Ken are already taken, so you might want to-"

"No, not play toys you twat, real romantic couples," I interrupted, pushing back the vile taste in my throat that arose with the image of me dressed as a Barbie doll. I didn't have lines, but if I was going to draw them, it'd be there.

"So, who is it then? I need to decide on a perfect store to get you a dress."

I shot him a look, "Don't laugh, okay?"

Again he rolled his eyes, but nodded.

"Jane Eyre and Rochester." My voice was mumbled, but I knew he had heard me. To my pleasure, he didn't laugh.

"Who are those people?" Cocking his head, he gave me a look of pure confusion.

"Have you heard of the Bronte sisters?"

"Who?"

"Never mind. Just take me somewhere that'll have Victorian vintage."

Feliks understood those words, and smiled.

* * *

><p>The week was awful. I somehow managed to become piled in homework, which is never a good thing, especially for someone who had already aced all those classes. The gym teacher started preparing us for Presidential Fitness, which meant working on chin ups. Not a single bloody person was good at it, so I didn't see what having a strong chin was going to do for you in the real world. I had started seeing less and less of Alfred, and while it stung, I knew that it'd only be preparing me for the time after this undercover article when I'd never see him again. It was strange to think that these long, dramatic days would be only freckles on the face of my career, which was starting to bloom. Even Roderich complimented me a few times.<p>

Elizaveta rang the doorbell, and I was pleased that she did because at the moment I was relaxing in only briefs and I would be mortified to have someone see me so indecent.

"Hey, how's it going?" she greeted cheerfully, pushing me back onto the couch as she came to sit beside me.

I didn't reply, instead looking at her with a sly smirk. "How are you and Roderich?" I asked after a while. My voice sounded nosey and inquisitive, even to my own ears

"Why are you so curious?" I could tell she didn't mind, a bit of laughter held under a false frown.

"Well, aren't most people getting married and shit at this age? And look at us..." Her laughter came out then, and she nudged her head into my shoulder somehow.

"Yeah, and those people have two kids, live in white picket-fenced houses, and have comb-overs by the time they're thirty! We don't want a life like that," she assured me.

"Yes, because fixing idiots' grammatical errors is a better alternative?" Quite honestly, I loved my job. Hell, my life was my job. But still, I felt contrary at the moment. Maybe it was my mid-life crisis.

* * *

><p>There I was. It was the night of the dance, and I was standing in front of the mirror with Elizaveta behind me fastening my fake blonde hair into a bun. My hands were bunched in the dark fabric of my long dress. The upturned white collar scratched my neck, making me feel suffocated.<p>

"Stop fidgeting, Arthur. God damn," she cursed as the wispy hair slipped out again.

I mumbled an apology, and she excused it on account of my nerves.

"Are you sad that you didn't get to go with your one true love, Alfred?" Elizaveta teased, I could feel her smirk on the back of my neck.

"I'm sure Francis will do just fine. Oh blimey! Who am I kidding? I can't go." I fretted, anxiety getting the better of me.

"Little Miss Prima Donna, you'll be fine," she huffed. "You'll get the real high school experience, you'll type up your report, and then you'll get another assignment. Life is simple for you."

I felt the dull end of a bobby pin poke my head.

"One, that hurt, and two, I am not a prima donna!" Maybe I was cranky. I hadn't had my morning tea.

"Eli," I sighed, "do you ever get a really bad feeling about things? Like everything is about to go horribly wrong?" I turned slightly, and her eyes narrowed and warned me not to move.

"Yeah, I know that feeling, I got it when I first met you, and that was obviously wrong, so don't worry." Smiling triumphantly, she grabbed a can of hairspray for my perfected wig.

"That doesn't make me feel any better. Actually I think my self-esteem took a dive." Without any wishes of luck, I headed out to meet Francis at the park. Not a chance in bloody hell I'd show him where my house was.

* * *

><p>It wasn't that I hated people, I just really hated being around people. In that crowded room surrounded by dancing bodies, well, I could practically feel their joy and happiness radiating off of them. It only made my misery sting worse. I cursed Elizaveta every few moments, and then apologised because I was just restless and it wasn't really her fault and you can't blame other people for the situations you get yourself into. Still.<p>

Francis was over by the punch bowl, grabbing me a cup and chatting with his friends. I didn't mind that I was left alone for a moment, because it let me survey the crowd.

Mattie, Tino, and the rest of the Numerators were all dressed as chess pieces, which I must admit had charm, but was extremely nerdy. Mattie looked gorgeous in a long white dress that hugged her straight body, and a queen shaped hat atop her head. She was smiling, but when her eyes caught mine it went away and she just adopted a strangled, upset look. I turned my gaze before I could feel remorse and noticed Lovino was dancing with Antonio, a guy I thought he had hated. At first I couldn't tell who they were supposed to be, but when the Spaniard turned, I caught a glimpse of his spotted fabric and let out a laugh.

"Oh, that's rich! Fred and Wilma Flintstone." Francis handed me my beverage and placed a protective hand on my arse.

He followed my gaze. "Have you seen Feliks and his date?"

I looked around for them, and soon enough I was snickering again. "Barbie and Ken? I think wearing the pants in the relationship means nothing anymore."

Our own attire was formal and prudish. It seemed quite out of place.

"Would you like to dance, mademoiselle?" Francis leaned in close, his teeth nibbling on an earlobe. Blanching, I pulled away.

"As long as you don't do that again." I forced a smile to appear witty, not bitter. He managed to look amused, not insulted.

Placing a hand firmly on my hip, I wondered what he thought of my lack of curves and narrow hips. He didn't seem to mind, and moved his hand lower to my distaste.

"So, how are you liking this town?" Francis took a shot at small talk.

"Don't," I warned him, and continued to look around as he guided me through cliché dance moves to the party music.

Okay yes, I'll admit that I was looking for Alfred, but don't judge me. I felt as though tonight might be my last night as 'Alice', and it'd be awful to leave without talking to him one last time. Finally, I spotted him standing by the door talking to another teacher.

"I need some air, just a second." I looked at Francis, and he avert his eyes from the rump of some other girl and nodded in understanding. I couldn't really blame him, I'm not much of a looker.

"Hey Mr. Jones, could I please talk with you for a second?" I muttered, lightly pulling on his jacket. My word, he cleaned up nice. His hair was combed and styled, his clothes ironed and nice- I felt I could get used to seeing that.

"Sure thing," he smirked. "Hey Alice, were you just checking me out?"

I shook my head quickly and walked out, not daring to look back to see if he followed. The door closed loudly and I assumed he had.

Outside was a little cold, and few students lingered around smoking cigarettes or making out full of lust. "Kids," I muttered.

"What did ya need?" He looked so nice tonight. I felt so lonely.

"I just wanted to say- I mean, I just wanted to let you know that," I paused and took a few deep breaths, telling myself that if I cried it wouldn't make anything better. "Look, if something were to ever happen, please know that... what I mean is-" A large cry broke through my stammers, and I ran back to dance floor, suddenly worried for some strange reason.

I haven't very often lost my shit. Only when under stress, or when having too much to drink. Sometimes being around French people inexplicably made me angry. Poor grammar could result in the assailant being harmed. Other than that, I was normally fine.

But what I saw then resulted in startled to pissed in twenty seconds. Mattie sat soaking wet on the ground, the punch bowl laying empty a few metres away. Her once white dress was a crude red, and her once flawless hair was flat along her face. It was dripping into her eyes as shallow sobs racked her body. Gilbert stood nearby, laughing along with his other douchey friends. Lovino was smiling, his hands dripping a bit with red. It reminded me of blood, and in my eyes they were murderers anyway.

In that moment it didn't matter that I was undercover. It didn't matter that these were my 'friends', or that Mattie probably hated me. What I saw dug into my soul and clawed at the little pieces of compassion I had left.

"You motherfuckers," I started. All eyes instantly snapped towards me. Laughter died out. You do not mess with a pissed off teenage girl; a fuming man in a wig is just as lethal.

"You," I pointed at the albino, "are a childish arsehole who will get nowhere in the real world. You are inconsiderate, rude, and obnoxious. People might tolerate you now, but when you grow up life will shit on you. You will be thrown aside like the trash you are because tormenting others isn't funny. It's bitchy and foolish."

I continued on my rampage. "Lovino, why are you so moody? I feel awful for the boy you string along. You're lucky you have him now, but keep treating people like trash and you will end up alone. Did you do it for the laughs? Did you lift that bowl up and dump it on a sweet, kind person's head just for a joke? Do you ever think of how anyone else feels you selfish nitwit? If someone did that to you, you would scream bloody murder! This girl is crying and you are laughing."

A few people were nodding in agreement, and I moved close to Mattie to wipe the soggy hair out of her burning eyes and tried to dry a few tears with the sleeve of my expensive dress. It was worthless now, anyways.

"And you, Mattie, and people like you," I glanced at her friends, "take this in stride, because once you get out of here, it won't matter what dumbarses like this did to you. You'll be surrounded by mature adults, and people like this will be pushed to the bottom of the food chain."

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, "H-how do you know?"

I smiled and pulled off my wig. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, undercover reporter for The New York Times. I've been in your situation, and I've survived."

A silence permeated the room, and the awkwardness of the situation settled in. I was still wearing my make-up, my dress, and my heels, but without my wig I retained some of my masculinity.

"Peter, come on," I called out. With an embarrassed laugh he followed.

* * *

><p>It was freezing and dark as I walked home. When a felt a hand on my shoulder, I instinctively lifted up my leg and aimed a kick for the attackers crotch.<p>

"Uff, Alice," Mr. Jones moaned, falling to the ground and clutching his privates.

"Bloody hell! Don't scare me like that Alfred!" My face was red. Was it too much to hope for forgiveness?

"You...are...a bitch," he breathed out, still looking very much in pain.

I sunk down to his level, my dress sticking in a wad of gum. "Can I be your bitch?" Jokingly, I batted my eyes. For a minute he struggled to keep a straight face and then we both laughed. I felt better when we were done.

"I just wanted to ask what you were undercover for, and if what you felt about me was real," he admitted, awkwardly shifting his package in an attempt at comfort.

"I was getting a story on teenage relationships and such-" I was stopped before I could tell him that yes, oddly enough I was madly in love with him. Maybe.

"So it was just for the paper? All those moments were just for the paper? The flirting, the cake... the goddamn story time? That was just 'work' for you? God, I'm a friggin' idiot."

"Now, I wouldn't say that. Just a little daft is all." _'Arthur, please shut up. Just tell him_,' I instructed myself. My lips stayed shut. I watched him struggle to get up and hobble away, my lips sealed.

Sighing, I wondered why I didn't tell him. How could it have gotten any more awful? I waited for a bit, not really wanting to go home. By then I knew that Elizaveta would be there with hugs and cookies. I didn't want sympathy. I just wanted to wallow in my self-pity and cry alone.

So I did. Sitting on the sidewalk with gum stuck to my dress, and smeared make-up, I cried.

I felt a bit like a common tranny whore on a Friday night.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you so much everyone who reviewedfavourited/alerted. _

_You inspire me so and I adore you all :3 _

_**Another note** (that you shouldn't read)_

_I'm currently doing research for my summer story. It's Hetalia and... NORSE MYTHOLOGY. Yeah! I find it fascinating but my library thinks I'm absolutely crazy for checking out 7 books on that subject. My room looks like a mad scientist's lab. This pleases me. So... if you guys have any ideas/suggestions for that, tell me! _

_Thanks again for standing me xD_


	9. Part Nine

So... the end is near. *sniffle* I'll miss this.  
>Thank you <strong>Semebay<strong> who beta'd this for me :3 you rock! (and it was so cool to talk to a 'famous' fanfictioner.)

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><p>I think I passed out on the sidewalk. When I woke up, I was in my bed naked.<p>

"Hey there, party crasher," an eerily familiar voice chimed. I looked around for my best friend, but found Roderich instead. I guess this is what people mean by a rude awakening.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" My head hurt but I still managed to glare at him. He returned it with his own and for a moment we were in a standstill.

"Down boy." Elizaveta walked into my bedroom with a cup of tea and smiled gently.

"How bad was it?" I didn't really want to know, but I felt obliged to ask. She handed me a good strong cuppa, and putting it to my lips was relaxing in practice.

"Well, I'm here." So it was awful. I was such a fool, and now I was going to die alone as a bitter, surly old man. And Alfred was going to get married and adopt children and grow old and have small wrinkles on his face from smiling and laughing too much. And I wouldn't ever help him get those wrinkles—just the small creases in his forehead from anger and worry. How endearing.

"Arthur, stop beating yourself up."

"I was doing no such thing," I most certainly was. Now leave me to wallow in self pity, _thank you very much_.

"Look, just leave. I'll get the paper done." I muttered, closing my eyes because I really didn't want to see them right now. I felt as though if they slipped up and some affection was shown, I might cry. It's not easy being a spinster.

It was too hard to imagine what would be happening if I had chosen to tell Alfred how I really felt, instead of insulting him.

"Fine, we'll go." I didn't really know who said it because I was trying to bury myself under my pillows and sheets and hearing the door slam was really all it took to set off the waterworks.

Was I overreacting? Probably.

But give me my own time to heal, god damn it!

"I guess I should get the story started..." Somewhere in between dreary states of restlessness, I managed to write the headline in the Sunday paper.

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><p><em>New York Times 11.23<em>

The Increasingly Thin Line Between Education and Love

It has often been said that high school is one of the toughest environments children in the first world face, and I can attest to the fact that teenagers can be some of the cruelest people. Powered only by personal want and convenience, kids can be deceiving, vile, and shallow. But some of the children I met at the local high school—Hetalia Academy—are the best I've ever known. There are kids with ambitions and dreams. Children that face ridicule bravely and endure daily heartbreak. 17 year-old Mattie Williams was kind to the weird new kid when no one else was, and the members of the Numerators accepted a stranger in with open arms. But as you all may know, the want to be popular was too much, and the friendship was traded in for a chance at the cool table- an opportunity to glimmer in the spot light and get invites to parties. But a climb to the top wasn't without cost, and on the way up I lost the trust of the welcoming friends

I had made. Yet, at the time I wasn't bothered. Soon I had the attention of heartthrob Francis Bonnefoy, and the respect and companionship of queen bees Feliks Lukasiewicz and Lovino Vargas. If nice words are only to be spoken of them now, I must admire their beauty and the way the can change the atmosphere of a room-entrance a crowd. They are not ashamed of who they are, and that is a rather large feat for the modern youth. The school food—yes, as awful as you remember—was the least of my worries, as they soon turned to leading my double life with chivalry and character. I had to keep up my act of being a moody, air headed girl and manage school work, my job at the New York Times, and a new pressing matter that fed on my thoughts—Mr. Jones. On the first day I met him, he told me to call him Alfred, or 'The Hero'. It was only a week later when my curiosity became fascination. He ate like a greedy pig, butchered the English language (while somehow managing to teach it with intelligence and compassion), and took loud and obnoxious to a new level. While I masqueraded with false pretences, I formed connections with people I grew to care about and suddenly the weight of my lie felt heavy on my shoulders. I knew I was in too deep.

I think the ending began with a dinner. It was a fundraiser for the group I had turned my back on, but I still went. Maybe it was because it offered a chance to spend time with Alfred (who, to my chagrin, was increasingly on my mind). It had been the best night of my life.

Ever since I was a small child, I had dreamed of experiencing a great romance. But somewhere between the tattered pages of life, I was left a stressed, angry man who hadn't ever been kissed. At least, not a proper one. Haven't we all had pieces of ourselves become tarnished with life and grief? It doesn't help feeling sad for the parts of us that have changed—we must embrace who we are now. But I must admit, I was obsessed. Thinking of this from Alfred's perspective, I feel awful. What must it be like to find someone you could talk to so openly, but be held back by professionalism, when all the while I was perfectly reachable (albeit a lying cross-dresser)? I tell this to the school, that he was perfectly professional, and it was me reading between lines that weren't there and hoping—praying. I thank everyone who has shaped my experience there, and for all the time and energy you gave to me.

All the joy and laughter and sorrow you shared. My proposal is this: Alfred, if you're reading this—and by God I hope you are—please meet me by the baseball field (the one were you'd practice and I'd laugh at you) at 6pm on Monday. And please, for the sake of my heart, don't be late. You're always dreadfully late.

_ -Arthur Kirkland (25)_

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><p>I have to admit... I was pleased about my article, but also very worried. What if Alfred didn't show up? What if strangers did just to laugh at me and rub it in my face that lying never leads to anything good? I just... I just wanted everything to be perfect. Was that too much to ask for? That after a few days of nightmares I could get a sweet dream. Probably, with my luck.<p>

The doorbell rang. At first I didn't feel like getting it because it was just going to be Elizaveta and she can open the damn door herself. But then it rang again, and I went to get it.

It was a girl, blushing, blonde hair, long dress. "Hullo Mattie- um, how did you find out where I live?" I didn't want to accuse her of stalking me, but...

"I managed to squeeze it from Alfred. Speaking of that, I wanted to let you know that I'll have him read your piece in the paper. It was very good." She smiled, and I realised how much I had missed them.

"Thanks, would you like to step inside?" I offered. I actually wanted to go to sleep, wake the next day and get ready for maybe, possibly meeting Alfred.

"Sure," She did that soft grin again, and I closed the door behind her.

"How have you been holding up?" I was genuinely concerned. Mattie was a good, but delicate kid.

"I was going to ask you the same thing. You look dreadful." She barked out a quiet laugh and I immediately took back the whole 'delicate' thing.

"Giving up on Francis yet?" I sat down on my old lady couch, and beckoned her to do the same. Standing awkwardly by the door was fine and all, but it made my back hurt.

"I don't think I could..." That I understood. Before, I would've scoffed at her and called her a desperate wallflower. But now I knew that love was something prickly and difficult and it wouldn't end with something as singular as a rude event.

"Was your dress ruined?" Maybe it was mean of me to try to make her remember that night. It was probably the worst she'd ever experience.

"Was yours?" This time I grinned.

"Touche. God, I hate the French," I noticed Mattie's French-Canadian face scrunch up, "It's a British thing, don't take it personally."

I then realised I was dreadfully inept for entertaining a child.

"Do you want some food? I also have Monopoly—it's a bit addicting," I stood up, offering to take her into the kitchen.

"Sure, I'd love some. You're a decent cook, eh? If not, I have some money. We could go out." She looked at the stack of dishes from my days of moping. I looked at my empty fridge.

I killed my pride quickly. "Let's go out."

We both smiled at that.

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><p>"No, no, I <em>promise<em> you I'm normally quite good at this." The spoon slipped again from my nose, and Mattie burst into laughter again.

"Oh, bollocks. I give up." I slammed the spoon down and sipped my tea with mock anger.

"You were just getting the hang of it, Arthur!" She smiled politely and then we both laughed.

"You're a good kid, you know that?"

She didn't really respond. Just took a drink of her water with lemon. "Tell my parents that," she snorted, and it sounded bad coming from her. She was just too nice to try rude expressions.

"Want to talk about it?" I felt a little like a teacher, but also like a good friend.

"Do you know what it's like having Alfred as a brother? He was everything, and I'm just too small and quiet to ever make a difference. I mean, I love the guy! He's my brother. But sometimes... sometimes I wish I didn't know him. Even my friends like him more than me, he's just a cool teacher with a introverted little sister. Don't you ever feel like your role in life has already been assigned? I hate mine." She finished her rant by eating some of her poutine.

"That looks like shit." I huffed. "But yes, I know what you mean. One day you'll make a big mark, whether it's on yourself, on the world, or on a loved one. You won't go away unnoticed." I felt awful promising her something like that. Because plenty of people do die alone, without a family to wish them goodbye or a lover to cry for them. But she didn't need to know that. She already did—she needed some hope.

I poked around my plate, losing my appetite.

"You know," she started, grinning wolfishly, "if things go as planned, you'll be family soon."

I choked on my spit, but then managed to smile. "I'm glad you have faith in me." I paid for both of us, much to her objection. It kind of felt like an apology.

We walked back to my place, and I was glad for her to stay. As soon as I pulled out the board games, time was gone.

After quickly loosing two games of Monopoly, we were in a stalemate. The game dragged on and things just got more intense.

"Hah, give me your money," I stuck my hand and tongue out teasingly. She angrily placed money in my palm.

It was childish, and when I looked outside, the darkness of the sky startled me.

"When do you have to get home, Mattie?" She blinked a few times, then realised that, yes, I was talking to her.

After yawning she answered, "They won't notice I'm gone. Can I sleep here?"

"Um, sure thing. Let me get the sofa set up for you." I got up and moved some pillows out of the way. I went to my room and got one of the decorative quilts at the foot of my bed for her.

"Do you need some clothes? I have something that may work for you." I called out, and after a little moment of silence, she replied.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

I assured her that it wouldn't be, and got the girlish pyjamas Elizaveta got me in anticipation of me getting invited to a sleepover. I found a toothbrush still in its package and added that to the pile, then headed out to help her get used to my home.

"We could watch a programme on the telly if you'd like. Adorable, cheesy movies come on."

She smiled, left to get dressed and when she came back I was laughing at some obscene rom-com.

We fell asleep with the television still on.

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><p>Waking up next to a strange lady didn't worry me nearly as much as it should. Soon the memories of last night flushed back, and I got up to shower.<p>

It was the day. Monday

After making a healthy breakfast of toast (yes, it was supposed to be black) and then remembering I didn't even have butter in my house, I decided to dash off to the diner a few blocks away. I left a note for Mattie, but figured she was smart enough to deduce what had happened.

Walking down the street was a bit startling. Three people came up to me and asked if I was the man from the paper. The hopelessly love struck and unavoidably heartbroken man who lied and fell in love. I told them all no, but they wished me luck anyways, saying they'd come to cheer me on.

"Good God, I hope this doesn't turn into a spectacle." So of course it did.

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><p><em>And so that brings me to where I am now. <em>

_Trying not to watch the clock, ticking, ticking, __**ticking**__. I look at Mattie again, and Francis is whispering something to her, and she's blushing and looking rather hot and bothered. Great, how about everyone just falls in love at my expense? Happiness is overrated. _

_And now it's six o'clock. My breath is trapped in my throat and I feel dizzy and nauseous and hopeful, don't let me down please. The crowd is silent. I'm silent. I don't care that it's cold or that I probably look absolutely, heart crushingly earnest and scared and nervous._

_I have an image of Alfred sitting at home, hands around his lover, laughing at me and all my petty mistakes. I feel angry, but mostly sad. _

_Thirty seconds left, and I'm staring at my feet. My face is a bright red and I want to melt into the ground or just pass out. So I don't have to suffer from embarrassment when the time passes and I'm still alone. _

_Six-oh-one. A sigh comes from the crowd. I don't know what to do. What does someone do in a situation like this? Do I cry...no. No. It isn't my fault. Really. _

_Okay, it was completely my fault. _

_It wouldn't have worked out anyway. We would've had too much baggage to sort through anyway. I'm glad. Really, really glad._

_Six-oh-two. It's worse now because everyone has gotten caught up in the excitement and we forgot it was the real world. _

_What if he never even read the paper? I feel a wetness on my cheeks and look up to the sky. Is it raining?_

_No, I'm just being a baby. I won't wipe them away. That'd look childish and pathetic and I won't do it._

_Six-oh-three. I do it, my vision is too blurry now. How long will I wait? Two reporters from the front row leave, muttering about how disappointing this all is, and I grin in agreement. My mouth hurts from grinning so I stop. I imagine I look bonkers._

_Six-oh-four. Okay. This is just rubbish. Why am I waiting? I start to leave, but my feet don't want to move, and my legs decide to turn to jelly and it'd be too mortifying to crawl away._

_Six-oh-five. I see a taxi stop and a man dash out. He's tall and blond and sort of reminds me of a dream I once dreamt._

"_Arthur? Arthur!" he yells, running towards me and smiling so wide that it just dries up my tears like the sun. _

_Everything is so uncertain in this moment. I wonder if maybe I will marry Alfred. Do his parents smile just like him? Does his mom have blue eyes? Does his dad have grey hair? Maybe Mattie and Francis will get married. Maybe Mattie will marry someone she hasn't even met yet. Elizaveta and Roderich had something special. I could smell it and feel it, and I knew more was to come from them. _

_I try to clear my thoughts. _

"_You're late," I murmur, then shout, "He's always late!" The remaining people cheer, and I feel childish and silly, and absolutely in love. _

_And it happens. I'm not sure what I'm thinking. Maybe about how my nose is running and I should wipe it up to avoid looking like complete rubbish in the papers. But he does it, and now I'm not thinking at all anymore._

_His hands wrap around me soundly, and I feel protected in the warm arms. I feel his heart beat, a little too fast, but mine is going insane, so I applaud him on his causality. We are hugging like lovers do and I feel so close- so close- so __**close**__. Don't break me, please. _

_He looks down at me, his blue eyes shinning so bright and wonderful. It hangs stars in the sky because everything is suddenly brilliant._

_Alfred's lips are warm and inviting, pressing soundly to mine, which are wet and gross with tears. He doesn't mind. I don't either. And there aren't any fireworks, and I don't explode into happiness. I just feel so warm and safe and close. And the thought strikes me that here I am, kissing Alfred and people are watching and I don't give a damn. _

_I turn a little bit, trying to be alluring and failing. Our noses mesh together and make a funny sound. We hear someone drop their camera and mutter, "Oh shit!" I am laughing into his mouth, and he starts laughing too, so we just break apart and rest our foreheads on each other and breathe the same, warm air out of each others mouths for a few moments, still giddy._

_So, our first kiss wasn't perfect. We'll be trying plenty others._

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><p><em>My love to: (TL;DR)<em>

**suri **(that reminds me of that iPhone thing that tells exquisite jokes and gives amazing advice)**XxTenshIxX97** ( lol, at first I thought that said ten inches xD) **futurepsychoperson** (this should worry me. It doesn't.) **animewatcherfreakmal** (aren't we all, bud. Aren't we all.) **lilwiheart15 **(thank you for all your lovely reviews :D) **IAmCanada425** (who?)** Rick Allan Doyle** (that sounds delightfully British) **Skadiyoko** (name so nice I can spell it without help, now. Took me long enough) **Teenage Mouse **(I can spell that without looking as well. Do I get a cookie?) **sappire495 **(thank you for the awesome review!)** RedRosesTea **(your pen name sounds positively mature and wise. Like a fortune cookie.)** Treegona **(you rock! your reviews rock!) **Cacow** (thanks for helping me with the grammar error. You are a sharp mofo. lots of love :D) **birdsFLYrocksFALL **(keen observation, thanks for all the support) **CelestialCiel **(Kuroshitsuji for the win!)** Blind Squirrel **(aw...I hope you aren't really blind. Your review still rocked)** cosanera** (sounds... Spanish...) **NanaMii148** (I loved your review. It was so nice and thank you for the suggestions, and maybe I'll come back and fluff out that chapter! Thanks!) **Xaphrielle** (I'm glad I opened your eyes to the gender-bending world of fun! I don't prefer it always, but come on, school girl Arthur adds ZEST heh) **Japanese Sinister** (I think I maybe love you too... but that might just be the earl grey talking) **Minuet Pavlov** (glad you enjoyed it ^_^ and I'm glad it was charming because I aim for that but then normally come off...er, creepy? xD) and to **jansci **(lawl, your review reminded me of a dick-snapping turtle. Uhm, my take on that is er... it's a rom com! Happy rainbows and glitter and don't get into the technicalities, yes? but it most certainly wouldn't work out in real life...at least, the movie version x.x)

Thank all you groovy people who reviewed! And everyone who favourited/alert :D

For sticking with me to the end, you rock! See ya around for my next adventure?


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